


Chernobylbound

by Penkindisbestspecibus



Series: Chernobylbound [1]
Category: Homestuck, S.T.A.L.K.E.R.
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Gore, Horror, Humanstuck, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Spoilers for Clear Sky and Shadow of Chernobyl, Suicide, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 23:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penkindisbestspecibus/pseuds/Penkindisbestspecibus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“... Jesus fuck Nitram, what the fuck happened to you?” Tavros gave him a bitter smile, placing his mug on a small, somewhat charred table. “We came, to the Zone, Karkat. It uh, changes everything, if you hadn't, realised already.” Karkat said nothing, and took a sip of his tea, almost grimacing at the bitterness. </p><p>Twelve Stalkers, who once went upon their divergent paths, have reconvened slowly when one of the missing members resurfaces alive and well (for some definition of the word). When a path to the fabled Pripyat comes to light, they will be forced to work together once more if they want to have any chance of standing against the brewing storm on the horizon. Pripyat holds many secrets, and there are those who would stop at nothing to obtain them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Paging Doctor Taurus

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't even know why I'm writing this. I should probably be writing Strong Sexy Super Maid, Equius Zahhak but I started playing STALKER again and having so much fun randomly shooting bandits in the face and hunting anomalies and running from Bloodsuckers, that I wanted to see if there was a Homestuck STALKER Crossover. There was one on Tumblr, but it was kind of a minor thing so I made my own.
> 
> Some of this won't make very much sense unless you have played S.T.A.L.K.E.R. I'll do my best to alleviate all confusion however.
> 
> All Trolls are human within this story.
> 
> A quick rundown of STALKER for those who haven't played.
> 
> The Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant suffered a meltdown, that is an immutable fact I am stating for the record. STALKER explores an Alternate Universe where the 'Zone' (the area of radioactive fallout) becomes something of a miniature apocalyptic wasteland full of weird and wonderful things, including but not limited to:  
> Fauna that wants to kill you,  
> Flora that wants to kill you,  
> Violations of all known laws of Physics (that want to kill you),  
> Violations of all known laws of Chemistry (that want to kill you), and  
> 'Stalkers' - people who came to the Zone to explore, and find their fortune (some of whom want to kill you)

 "... My answer is, and always will be, that of a completely negative reponse. What I am saying is, uh, no way.” The short man frowned at the masked fellows before running a hand through his mohawked hair and crossing his arms across his chest with an air of finality.

“Come now, mister Taurus, rethink your position a little.” The leading fellow, wearing a black trenchcoat and ski mask, grinned in a manner that could only be described as feral, baring teeth and canines as his compatriots raised their rifles.

“Are you, threatening me? Is that a thing, that is uh, happening?” His tone was nonchalant, but there was an edge of warning. The Bandit gang leader simply smiled wider. “Taurus, look at yourself. Face it, you're weak. You can't even stand without the assistance of prosthetics. All we're asking is a little fee, completely affordable. In return, we provide you with protection. Otherwise, well, accidents can happen.” His statement was punctuated with a leer, but the dusky-skinned male simply sighed, shifting his footing slightly with a small wheeze of mechanical servos.

“... you are right. I am, a pathetic weakling, who can only rely uh, upon his friends.” His eyes flashed bronze, and there was chittering sound from all around them. “Thing about, my friends though, they all have, uh, very sharp teeth. That is an immutable fact, that I am stating for the record.” A small, mutated rodent creature, furless and deformed and with sharp, chitter-chattering teeth, leapt at one of the bandits, who shot it out of the air. But where there was one, there was many. The rodent mutants began to swarm over them, chittering and chattering as the bandits desperately began firing upon them, the short man with the mohawk forgotten in favour of the immediate danger.

The swarm did not end, and magazines only held so much. Before long the bandits had to reload, but as they did so, the rodents clambered over them, gnawing and biting, chittering and chattering. The Leader tossed a few rats from his body, and reached out towards Taurus. “Please... we're sorry! Have mercy!”

Taurus simply quirked an eyebrow. “Mercy...? I'm, really sorry too. But uh, this is the Zone, Wasp. Mercy, is a privilege, only the strong can afford.” He smiled, but a bitter edge made it hollow and empty. “And I... am just a weakling, who can't even, stand on his, uh, own.” He stood there, watching with only apathy as the Bandit known as Wasp was buried under a pile of chittering rodents, screaming as they devoured him alive.

The gruesome business done, he turned towards his guest, smiling sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. “Uh, I'm, really sorry, you uh, had to see that, Karkat.”

Karkat Vantas did not respond, settling only for slackjawed astonishment. “...”

“... Karkat?

“...”

“Uh... okay. I'm going, to make some tea... if that is, a thing that is uh, okay with you...”

 

* * *

 

_The Rodent, or Hamster - a mutated rodent of indeterminate genetic origin, that lives in dark and damp places within the Zone. It's sharp claws and chittering teeth are small weapons, but it never travels alone. Whilst of little concern to most, Rodent Swarms are known to overcome even the most powerful of mutants, and are capable of overwhelming the unwary or careless._

 

* * *

 

“... Thank you.” Karkat said gruffly, accepting the steaming mug with only a smattering of reluctance as Taurus settled into a relatively soft looking torn armchair. “So, uh, what is it, you wanted to talk, about?” The seemingly passive male cradled his mug in his hands, blowing on it before taking a deep sip with a relaxed sigh. “Before we discuss the highly important, and it is fucking important so don't even think of not paying attention, news I have, what the fuck was THAT all about?” Taurus winced slightly, and gave him another sheepish grin.

“Uh, again, sorry. It's just, well, most of them, are uh, aware that crossing me is, well, kind of a bad idea.”

“Tavros, three men were eaten alive. By fucking. Hamsters. What. The. FUCK.” Tavros let out a tired sigh, glancing up from his mug of tea. “I can't, be seen as, uh, weak, Karkat. Every now, and then, some newcomers think I'm, uh, easy prey. The only thing, that prevents the rest, from uh, trying their luck, is fear. To be, perfectly honest, they are kind of, dicks though and, kind of, deserve it, a little?” With a casual shrug, he took a long draught of the tea, and nestled into his arm chair a tad more, leaving Karkat to gape at him.

“... Jesus fuck Nitram, what the fuck happened to you?” Tavros gave him a bitter smile, placing his mug on a small, somewhat charred table. “We came, to the Zone, Karkat. It uh, changes everything, if you hadn't, realised already.” Karkat said nothing, and took a sip of his tea, almost grimacing at the bitterness. Sugar was a rarity in the Zone.

“We found Aradia.” He said bluntly, ignoring the way Tavros began choking on his tea. As soon as the dusky-skinned male had regained his composure, Karkat continued. “She was found leading a small band of stalkers, out near Yanov.”

“... Is... she okay...?” Tavros's voice wavered. Nobody had seen Aradia since the Great Push.

Tavros and Karkat were two of twelve childhood friends, who, through varying circumstances, found themselves entering and exploring the Zone, voluntarily or not. It was only a matter of time before they found each other, and together, they eventually found and then joined a group operating out of the Swamps, known as 'Clear Sky', dedicated to studying and, if necessary, protecting the Zone.

Unified and held together by this common cause (although the motivations were starkly different), they had begun to be known as 'Zodiac' , taking on the appropriate callsigns. However, when Clear Sky attempted (and failed) to prevent Egbert and his group from entering the centre of the Zone, the group dissolved, and with it, Zodiac – the main cause of the group's division was Aradia's presumed death, having gone MIA.

To learn that Aradia was _alive_ was simply shocking beyond words.

 

“She was wearing a Monolith uniform.” There was a crash as the porcelain mug collided with the unforgiving concrete. “... wh... what?” Karkat nodded gravely, for once, not soaking his speech with a variety of curses.

“Apparently, she's been with Monolith this entire time – brainwashed, controlled. She's... changed. Fuck, she's changed.” Karkat hung his head low, letting out an irritated sigh.

“I sent out an announcement to everyone, but I had to come personally because you had to settle in a fucking area full of interference like a fuckass. Did you pick out the area the most likely to inconvenience visitors, or do you just naturally gravitate towards shitty locations for a home?”

“Without, uh, changing the subject, the answer to your, question, is no. But... she's... okay?” Karkat rolled his eyes, and drained the rest of his tea. “Yes. Fuck. She's fine. Living, breathing, kicking. Really fucking creepy though, only speaks in this weird ass fucking monotone.”

Tavros let out a sigh he wasn't aware he was holding, before glancing down the shattered remains of his mug, before letting out a small groan. “... Where is she, uh, now?”

“She's idling around in Yanov Station, whilst Sollux and Equius fight over whose group gets to keep her like little fucking children, and she just sits there like a trophy doll... what the fuck are you doing?” Tavros was digging through a chest, pulling out a gas mask and a hunting shotgun.

“I'm, uh, going to Yanov.” The ' _duh_ ' was left implied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tavros is kind of frightening. Everyone has Taken A Level In Badass, but Tavros is possibly the scariest person in Chernobylbound right now.
> 
> Only time will tell if I am capable of making Gamzee scarier.
> 
> The image of the Rodent is from the STALKER Wiki, which you may find at http://stalker.wikia.com.
> 
> For those who aren't aware (WARNING: SPOILERS, BUT QUITE FRANKLY THERE WILL ALREADY BE SPOILERS IN THE MAIN STORY SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL READ THIS ANYWAY):
> 
> Monolith - Monolith is a Faction within the STALKER games composed entirely of brainwashed and mind-controlled people who are made to worship the 'Monolith' via what is essentially a gestalt entity in order to help protect this gestalt entity. During the events of the first STALKER game (chronologically, the second), the Gestalt Entity (referred to as the C-Consciousness) was killed by a Stalker known as Strelok. As the game is set within Call of Pripyat, some Monolith members have broken free of brainwashing due to the C-Consciousness's death (such as Strider and his men). They are, however, damaged by their time as brainwashed servants, and are slightly disconcerting to speak to but otherwise, friendly people.
> 
> Edited slightly.


	2. Roll Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Karkat hates his life, Sollux runs a radio station, and nearly everyone finds Aradia disturbing.

When Tavros 'Taurus' Nitram arrived at Yanov Station, it was to the tight and crushing embrace of his old friend, Gamzee Makara – Capricorn, or, as he was known by his allies in Freedom, 'Jester'.

“Aw Tavbro, what's all up and happening motherfucker? You here to see the deadsis?”

“Uh... Deadsis?” Tavros quirked a slightly worried eyebrow at that.

“Shit, she ain't really dead no more is she? But a motherfucker's been calling her deadsis so long it's all up and stuck, ya know?” Gamzee's warbling, oddly alternating voice brought a smile to Tavros's face – it had been a long time since either had seen the other, and there was always the lingering fear that one day they'd receive a message informing them the other had succumbed to Life in the Zone.

The lanky male's wild hair was unrestrained by any form of headgear, his clown-painted face marred only slightly by scars. The smoke from what was most definitely a joint drifted lazily in front of his face as he grinned like the careless giant he was. The Stalker suit he wore identified him as a member of Freedom, the Flecktarn-patterned camouflage armour littered with small pouches across his chest, a Dragunov rifle slung across his back.

“It's, really good to, see you again, Gamzee.” The clown-stalker glanced around them, unfocused eyes searching for another face.

“Where's Karbro all up and being?” He said curiously, a slightly disappointed twinge to his face.

“He uh, had to handle, some stuff, back in, Zaton. Something about, bloodsuckers.” Capricorn raised an eyebrow at that, turning to face Tavros. “Bloodsuckers? By himself? Shiiit, why'd you let him go Tavbro?”

“He's not. Uh, alone, that is. He has, Grouse, with him. I ah, asked if he, wanted me to, come, but he, and this is a, quote, that I am stating, for the record, 'I don't, need the, fucking heart planeteer with a, degree in falling down um, stairs, you useless, chucklefuck. Go and, see Megido already!' Just... angrier.”

Gamzee let out a laugh, a strange lyrical honking sound, and slung an arm around Tavros's shoulders. “Well, shit, should be right then. Feels kind of wrong, ya know, though? Cause nearly all of us are all up and reuniting and shit, it's a motherfucking miracle Tavbro. Every motherfucker 'cept Karbro, Spidersis and the Blindsis is here... still, part of a motherfucker's all wanting to be with the crabby bro, ya know?”

“He'll be uh, fine. Grouse knows, what he is, doing.”

 

* * *

 

 

_The Bloodsucker. A mutated human who nows subsists on the blood of it's former race. It's sharp claws can tear through armour, and it's prehensile tendrils specialise in keeping it's prey still. Armed with the ability to turn itself invisible, the Bloodsucker is a very adept predator, and the untimely demise of many a stalker._

 

* * *

 

Karkat Vantas was not having a good day by even the most generous of margins. In fact, he would be so bold as to declare this the worst day he's had since the Great Push itself. Pitched forward, hands braced upon his knees, he was secretly glad he had the quick reflex of removing his mask before he felt what little contents that originally dwelled within his stomach evict themselves involuntarily, forming a disgusting pool of half-digested bread and diet sausage.

“... You okay, bro?” Grouse gave him a sympathetic smile tinged with amusement as Karkat let out a string of creative and imaginative curses. “Just fucking dandy, how did you know I enjoyed puking my fucking digestive tract out? Most fun an assfuck like me can have without taking off his clothes.”

Grouse shook his head in amusement, turning back to the three mutilated corpses before him. “Didn't think you'd be so queasy about a little blood.” Karkat clenched his eyes shut, trying to drive the image of a bloodstained silver cross from his mind as he steadied his breathing. “Well, now you fucking know. Cancer, the only fucking stalker in existence who can't stomach the sight of blood. What miraculous fuck-ups will be revealed next?” He snarked, wiping his mouth and replacing his mask. “So what's so gog damn fascinating about the cadaver brothers?”

Grouse pointed at the clearly visible claw marks rent into both armour and flesh. “These. We didn't find any on any of the bodies we found. It's... curious. These are definitely bloodsucker victims, but if ours lacked the claws... it wasn't a bloodsucker that killed our boys.” Karkat felt a groan escape his throat, and resisted the futile urge to facepalm himself through the gas mask. “That's just motherfucking wonderful isn't it? So there's something mimicking bloodsuckers. Why?” Grouse shrugged.

“Think later. First, we get out.”

With Grouse leading, Karkat 'Cancer' Vantas shuffled after him quietly, checking over his shotgun in what had become a routine as regular as breathing.

“... _shit_.” Grouse whispered. Karkat shuffled over to see what the commotion was about, and had to summon every last reserve of self control not to scream.

Bloodsuckers. An entire lair of them – Karkat could see at least five, and that was just in the one room! There was no way they could fight them all and win. Not without some serious firepower and maybe an exoskeleton.

“They're... sleeping.” The bloodsucker's made strange little wheezing noises as they stood there, eyes closed but nonetheless slumbering. “... We can sneak past.” Karkat swallowed thickly, and let Grouse take the lead once more.

What followed was possibly the most harrowing five minutes of his relatively short life. Karkat had tried not to count them, but decided ultimately that a concrete number of the amount they were facing would be useful when and if he returned (at the very least, he could inform everyone else of just how badly fucked in the ass they were).

Over twenty. Just the ones he could see, easily over twenty. He stopped counting at that point because he didn't know if he could handle the pressure of knowing he was in close quarters with over twenty bloodsucking monsters.

Taking deep breathes, and trying to pretend he wasn't still full of fear-induced adrenaline, Karkat turned to face the more experienced mutant hunter. “I'm curious, Cancer. If you're so sick around blood, why'd you come along?” Karkat let out a groan.

“Food isn't free, and ammunition, everyone's favourite currency for diplomatic negotiations, certainly fucking isn't. Normally I hunt for artifacts, but the universe, and the Zone, are conspiring to ruin my fucking life, so I haven't found anything of interest for at least a week. My options were either resorting to robbing other bastards or starving to death, and frankly, I'd rather starve to death with a rusty railroad spike shoved up my waste chute then be one of those gog damn stupid bandit fucks.”

“... Fair enough. I've got a few theories as to the real cause of the Stalker deaths, but the rest of the boys need to know about the lair. Can you go tell Beard? I'll come back and meet up with you at Skadovsk later.”

“... Joy of fucking joys. I'm going to have to take care of the lair aren't I? I know I am. Fuck. Everything.” Grouse ruffled his ginger hair, ignoring the way the pale male swiped at him angrily, before jogging off, laughing. “See you back in Skadovsk, Cancer.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Welcome back to Radio Free Yanov. Thith ith Gemini, bringing you all the latetht newth and developmentth. Alert out for the Tunnelth near Jupiter, where a, at thith point unidentified, high clath mutant wath thpotted.”_ The familiar lisping voice of another member of Zodiac, echoed from the small transistor radio set up at the bar, as Tavros slipped into a seat next to Gamzee, and across from another pair of familiar faces – Kanaya 'Virgo' Maryam and Aradia 'Aries' Megido.

“ _My deepest apologies, but could you, perhaps, if it's not too diffficult, repeat that last broadcast? Perhaps with clearer pronunciation, Gemini. I was unable to understand what you were saying.”_ The second speaker held an authoritative but formal bearing, with an almost regal tone. It too, belonged to a former member of Zodiac.

Aradia had changed, Tavros mused, significantly. The formerly quite curvy woman was thin, and gaunt, but with a leanness that demonstrated she still had muscle mass if not fat. Her long, wild hair was knotty and tangled, and her once vibrant face had become a mask of dull expression that belied nothing but apathy. Her Monolith suit had been given a hasty repainting to the green and blue colours of Clear Sky, to prevent any misunderstandings.

Kanaya, however, was the epitome of deadly grace and class. Her stalker suit was decorated with a theme of deep jade green, and was probably as close to fashionable as anything in the Zone could be, with remnants of formal dresses and other such designer clothing added as decorative attachments to the plainly practical armour underneath. Her short, practical (but nevertheless stylish and trendy) hair gleamed with a healthy shine that many would (and probably did in the Zone) kill for. A small badge pinned to her chest identified her as a member of a Science team, and a patch on her shoulder signified her status as a trained doctor and medic.

 

“ _Oh my fucking god Eq, can you be any more obnoxiouth? Wait, don't anther that. You've probably over-extherted your little brain jutht operating that little broadcathter of yourth. Seriouthly, what did you cobble that from?”_

Gamzee broke the silence with a small honking noise, causing Tavros to break out in a small smile, and Kanaya to hide hers behind her hand. Aradia, however, did not react, and continued to stare vacantly at the wall.

 

“ _There is no need for such lewd and inappropriate language. It was merely a polite request for those of us who could not understand what you are saying. As for the nature of my broadcasting platform, I assure you, whilst the materials may not have been as high grade as the ones you have managed to procure with your illicit contacts, the craftsmanship is vastly superior, civilian.”_

“So uh, Aradia... how have you uh, been?” Her eyes snapped to Tavros, her head slowly turning to follow the sudden movement with an eerie slowness. “... I have been okay.” Her tone was hollow and monotonous, empty and devoid of nearly everything except the sounds and words themselves.

 

“ _Illithit? Fuck off, it wath shit legit. All I did wath athk one of my friendth to get them for me from the factory. Oh... right. You don't have any friendth. Shit, thorry Eq. At leatht, I would be, if you weren't an inthufferable prick.”_

Tavros was beginning to feel more then a little awkward in this atmosphere, and glanced to Gamzee for assistance, who just kind of sat there smiling dumbly in a manner uniquely his own. Finding no solace in the Clown-stalker, he turned his gaze to Kanaya, who just shrugged slightly. She had appointed herself Aradia's personal doctor to ensure she was still fine and suffering no permanent damage from her time as a Monolith soldier; with the exception of the mental scarring, she was fit as a fiddle, possibly more so. Kanaya was a tad desensitized to Aradia's stranger habits and doings, and was possibly the only person really comfortable around her for a prolonged period of her time with the exception of her other former Monolith soldiers, who were all, generally speaking, worse off then her (many spoke with halting sentences, sometimes only single words in strings devoid of syntax, but some could only make unintelligible sounds that only the other Monolith soldiers seemed to understand).

 

“ _Why- the sheer nerve. Were I not currently busy improving Duty's armour design by leaps and bounds, I would stroll over there and give you your comeuppance, you uppity civilian.”_

“So what was it all up and being like, Deadsis? Working for the Monolith and shit, with the miracle of the centre. Is there really a motherfucking Wish Granter that can grant any motherfucking miracle?” Gamzee sheared through the awkwardness with a sword made of blunt, tactless ignorance.

“... No. There is no Wish Granter. I... didn't really have an opinion on it then. It was... okay, I guess.”

 

“ _Should be fairly eathy for you Eq, theeing ath the only direction you can go from rock bottom ith up.”_

“Shiiit, sounds like a motherfucking riot Deadsis.” Both Kanaya and Tavros could only stare at Gamzee as he sat there smiling dumbly. Aradia merely blinked, almost in curiousity. “... I suppose.” Her mouth quirked at the edges slightly in a facsimile of a smile, and Tavros felt a nervous one work it's way onto his face, and Kanaya simply shook her head in resignation.

“Motherfucking miracles man, all around a motherfucker in the Zone.”

“The Zone is full of anomalous occurrences.” The tiny smile had widened slightly and both Gamzee and Aradia sat there in a companionable silence whilst the other two just kind of stared at them.

 

“ _Why- You- I-,”_ _Snap!_ _“Oh fiddlesticks.”_

“You are a member of Freedom, then?” She said quietly, her hollow tone tinged with a questioning air. Gamzee simply nodded his painted face, grinning and jerking a thumb at his armour. “Sure am, deadsis. Freedombros are all chill as fuck motherfuckers, just sitting around and getting our motherfucking relax on. All up and with the wicked elixir, ya know? Equibro tried to all up and get a motherfucker to join him in Duty but all the rules and regulations, shit, ain't a miracle to be controlled like that, ya know?”

“I am intimately familiar with being controlled.” Tavros was beginning to wonder if Gamzee possessed some sort of superpower, or that he perhaps had succumbed to some sort of psionic-based illusionary world. Kanaya pinching herself seemed to make the theory a shared one.

“Shit yeah, Deadsis, ya know what the level is. All telling a motherfucker he can't smoke, or drink the elixir and shit. Wanted to hang with the Strongbro, but if a motherfucker can't get his relax on, it ain't really a motherfucking miracle ain't it? So I all up and jumped the metaphorical fence, and now I chill with Yarbro out in Kopachy sometimes, just watching the Zombiebros shuffle about. Shit's a motherfucking miracle, ain't got no minds, still alive and shit, ya know?” The conversation continued, Tavros and Kanaya now mere bystanders, as Gamzee rambled on with Aradia occasionally making a blank, possibly passive-aggressive interjection of agreement but her small smile made it seem unlikely that there was any ill intent behind her words, merely taking solace in the fact that Gamzee didn't seem to mind or even notice her changed demeanour.

 

* * *

 

_Whirligig: A middle class gravitational anomaly - once triggered by a sufficiently large object (which is anything larger than a small rock), it begins to draw everything towards it's center, whirling them around until it 'detonates'; imploding with often fatal results. The Whirligig anomaly is mostly invisible to the naked eye, identifiable at range by fluttering leaves and shifting rocks or the presence of previous victims. The Whirligig anomaly is a prime reason many Stalkers learn to carry some form of anomaly-identification object, such as a pouch of small pebbles, to allow a Stalker to see what is ahead. Those who fail to adapt and take heed to this first lesson of the Zone do not survive for much longer._

 

* * *

 

Karkat 'Cancer' Vantas was beginning to wonder what he did that made God so angry at him. Grouse had gone MIA, and he was left to handle the issue of the Bloodsucker lair. Thankfully, everybody's least favourite Trader and Shady Information Dealer, Owl, had kindly given him some information as to the whereabouts of some deadly experimental nerve gas he could use to kill the entire lair through it's ventilation systems.

Naturally, the poison gas information cost him every last rouble he had, and was in the middle of a broken bridge and radioactive convoy wreckage sandwich, thick with gravitational anomaly butter.

Bouncing a bolt off the Whirligig in front of him, it reacted with the characteristic burst of colour, resembling light reflecting off a bubble and he carefully stepped to the side, edging his way to a ladder, so he could take the significantly less anomaly-ridden route of just under the bridge, along the walkways.

Having already gained the first set of keys, his goal was the leading officer's car – a good deal behind the others, behind a smattering of Whirligigs, each more eager to compress his delicate organic matter then the last. Carefully shimmying along an edge, he snatched the key and attempted, desperately, to ignore the angry sounds of his geiger counter as he got too close the car. Spying a sheaf of folders in the corner of his eye, he snatched them up as well, and half-sprinted, half-carefully manoeuvred his way back to the main truck of the convoy. A small, locked chest in the back contained a relatively unassuming and quite portable tank of gas. “... That's it? This dinky little shit is the thing filled with super toxic gas? This better fucking work, or I will use this tank to bash that smug bastard's fucking brains out all over the wall.”

Task done, he took the ever delightful shortcut of jumping off a (not very high) ledge, and began the trek back to the ventilation complex that the bloodsuckers' had claimed for their family home.

A small set of intake pipes to the side marked his destination, and he hooked the canister up to the only intact pipe, carefully ensuring it was airtight before spinning the valve. “A job well fucking done.” He muttered, removing his mask to wipe the sweat from his brow. A mix between a roar and a screech rang in his ears, and he silently promised that if he ever found God, he would carve out the deity's innards with a spoon.

He whirled about, trusty shotgun in his hands and ready to pump his attacker full of their daily dose of iron, but his eyes met nothing but invisible air... and a rapidly approaching pair of floating, glowing eyes. _Bloodsucker._

“FUCK!” He fired off a blast, managing only to clip it along the shoulder as it sped along. The setting sun cast shadows as the invisible mutant lashed out with a set of claws, narrowly missing Cancer by mere inches. “FUCK, SHIT, BALLS!” He whirled around again, but saw nothing. Edging back towards the fence, his eyes darted left and right, searching for the glowing eyes. As he turned to search the left, clawed hands gripped his shoulders from the right, and he could feel the tendrils seeking his neck as razor claws pierced his flesh. “FUCK **NO!** ” Adrenaline coursing through his every muscle, Cancer grabbed the bloodsucker by the shoulders and forced it back slightly, preventing it from gaining it's meal. The two stared at each other, each attempting to over power the other through sheer physical strength, as the bloodsucker's mouth-tendrils flickered and sought his flesh, forcing Karkat to gaze deep into his bloodied maw.

The stench of blood and pain and death filled his nose, the sickly scent of murder, and he felt what little he had eaten after he got back to Skadovsk working it's way up his oesophagus. “Grk...” He attempted to prevent himself from spewing (he refused to die a vomit encrusted, bloodless husk. He simply refused), but when a tendril licked his chin, he could no longer restrain it. Thick and vile, his vomit propelled itself out of his mouth with surprisingly velocity... and straight into the mouth and face of the bloodsucker. It screeched in pain, as the bile entered it's eyes and mouth, staggering back and freeing the ginger-haired stalker. _Now!_ His instincts screamed at him, and he obeyed. Hands whipped out and picked up his dropped firearm, and before the Bloodsucker could think to vanish from sight and recover it's bearings, he emptied a shell into it's head, splattering everything nearby with bloodsucker blood, brains and his own regurgitated half-digested food.

“... _Fuck_. Oh my fucking gog, oh gog, this is possibly the most embarrassingly disgusting thing that has ever fucking happened...” He wiped the putrefying mixture from his face, and glanced at his armour with a sigh. “... at least nobody was around to see that.”

 

* * *

 

“ _That wath another thong by DJ D-Thtri, thtraight from out of the Thone, and into your aural canal. Feel like puking? Don't worry, that'th natural. Thave your bile for today'th newetht epithode of 'Forbidden Romanthe', thtarring 'Canther' and 'Knight'. Remember, abtholutely none of thith ith edited. Thtraight, raw, audio, brought to you by the one and only, Gemini – me. Enjoy.”_

 

Tavros perked up at that, as he returned from the bar with a few bottles of vodka, and a few mugs of coffee. “Cancer? Isn't that uh, Karkat's callsign?” Kanaya nodded calmly, the now much more open and talkative Aradia opting to explain in her stead. “Yes. Sollux has hacked Karkat's PDA so that it automatically records any audio transmission Karkat makes or receives, and sends it to Sollux's laptop. He has been broadcasting our leader's interactions with Knight, from Heir's group.” She gave another one of her creepy, empty smiles. “It is very popular amongst both sides.”

“... uh... does... Karkat know?” Aradia sipped her coffee gently.

“No. I believe that if he did, he would react very negatively. Possibly with fatal consequences for Sollux. I believe Knight is aware, and plays it up however. At least, that is what Sollux has suggested.”

 

“ _OI! KNIGHT! YOU BULLSHIT SCREAMING WASTE OF TIME! GET YOUR PALE BONY ASS OVER HERE THIS FUCKING INSTANT OR I WILL DRIVE NAILS INTO YOUR FUCKING OCULAR ORBS!”_

“ _What's up, Crabby the Dwarf? Is little Johnny stuck in the well? Shit, better call out the whole Strider Brigade, gotta get Johnny out of the well before an emission hits. Don't want him ending up like his old grandfather, mumbling about the war.”_

 

“Do they uh, always... talk like this?” Karkat was a lot louder then he usually was, with significantly more vitriol and hatred in his voice, it almost sounded like a completely different person. Tavros, however, had very little contact with Knight on which to base his judgement – the only member of the 'Fool's Court' (as Terezi had dubbed them) he had talked extensively to was Witch, so his strange mannerisms seemed a peculiarity.

 

“ _OH MY FUCKING GOG, SPARE ME YOUR STUPID BULLSHIT FOR AN INSTANCE. FOR ONCE IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE, AND I AM AWARE THIS IS A BIT OF A STRETCH FOR YOU BUT PLEASE, BEAR WITH ME AND JUST TRY, USE THAT SLUDGE BETWEEN YOUR EARS YOU CALL A THINKPAN! I'VE GOT A BLOODSUCKER PROBLEM, AND, LOATHE I AM TO ADMIT IT, I REQUIRE ASSISTANCE.”_

“ _Oh fuck, stop the presses, Shouty himself is asking me for assistance, not that I can blame him, seeing as I am just perfect and wonderful in every conceivable way. Shit, this is basically a marriage proposal from you isn't it? Don't fret dear, I've always wanted to be the bride to a strapping young buck such as yourself. I was thinking a June wedding, with a white dress. Frills like you wouldn't believe gurl.”_

 

Kanaya was hiding a smile behind her hand, gently attempting to mask it out of some form of politeness, whilst Gamzee chugged a bottle of vodka without a care in the world, showing no signs he was even listening to the broadcast.

 

“ _JEGUS FUCK, SOMEBODY PLEASE, FUCK ME WITH A RAKE. IT'D BE MORE BEARABLE THAN LISTENING TO A WORTHLESS INCREDIBLE JAZZFUCK SUCH AS YOURSELF. FUCK PAST ME, WHY DID I THINK THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA.”_

“ _Dude that is so erotic, my vagina is Niagara Falls. I've got tourists coming from all corners just to snap a few classy photos of my utterly gushing pussy, that's how hot that is. My genitalia has it's own economy now, based purely on it's tourism industry, so you better keep it up sweety or you'll put it into a recession.”_

 

“... He uh, doesn't really, have a, vagina, does he?” Tavros said, blushing slightly. Aradia shrugged.

“It is not information that many would claim to know. Talos has stated his belief that the Fool's Court had particularly large testicles though, so if he is to be believed, then none of them have a vagina.” There was a strange silence broken only by a honk from Gamzee. “That was a joke.”

 

“ _THAT'S IT, I'M GOING TO FIND A WAY TO TRAVEL BACK IN TIME JUST SO I CAN SHOVE A FORK THROUGH YOUR FATHER'S TESTICLES AND RIP THEM OFF SO YOU WILL NEVER, EVER, FUCKING EXIST AND I WILL BE A MUCH HAPPIER PERSON WITHOUT HAVING TO DEAL WITH YOU, YOU SHAMEFUCKING WHIMSICAL GROINHUMPER.”_

“ _Mm baby, yeah, I love it when you talk dirty.” The next minute is filled with incoherent screaming from Karkat's end, with the occasional breathy moan from Knight until it cuts out._

“ _We'll bring you more as thith thituation developth, betting pool ith thtill open ath to when and if they finally fuck. Thtill no takerth on the 'Not happening' option; oddth are thtill a million to one. Thith ith 'Pony Love Thuper Thtar' by DJ D-Thtri. Dethignated projectile vomiting area ith out back. Thith ith Gemini, thigning out.”_

 

* * *

 

 

_Zombies - the name is ultimately a misnomer, as 'Zombies' or not truly the risen dead, but merely, what remains after a Stalker endures heavy psionic emissions. All cognitive functions have ceased, and all that is left is an animal in human form, incapable of truly thinking, relying only on instincts. Some of these walking symbols of nightmarism are known to mumble unintelligibly._

* * *

 

“... and that's the last of it. We cannot thank you enough, Cancer; the elimination of the Bloodsucker lair means many a stalker's life is much easier without fear of those horrible fiends.” Karkat only grumbled slightly as he pocketed his reward, plugging the coordinates of several stashes into his PDA.

Thankfully, he had given himself something of a hosing down before arrival, so he was no longer covered with blood, guts and vomit, and he would never, _ever,_ recount that tale. Shuffling over to an unoccupied table, he cracked open a can of indeterminable food known only as 'Tourist's Breakfast' and began shovelling it into his face, ignoring it's greasy, unpalatable flavour as best he could.

“Oh man! Cancer, is that you?” Oh _fuck_. Of all the people he had to encounter in Skadovsk, of all the things to end the day with... it had to be that stupid asshole. The King of Idiots himself.

“... Heir.” John 'Heir' Egbert was a tall fellow, with tousled black hair and a ridiculously bright bucktoothed grin. “Man, it is you!” Before Karkat could so much as complain or tell him to keep his distance (in significantly less polite words), Heir wrapped him a bone-crushing hug. “Dude, it's been far too long since we've talked! How have you been?” Heir's blue tinted goggles gleamed in the dim light of the bar, and Karkat wanted to slug him in the face more than ever before.

“Heir, to be strictly informative for your pitiful sake, it has not been far too long, it has in fact, not been long enough seeing as this is quite a damn bit short of eternity, which, may I remind you, I specifically told you would be the only acceptable time frame in which to see your stupid fucking bucktoothed face again. For what gog forsaken reason have you disturbed my absolutely delicious meal?” Heir simply laughed, and slapped him on the back.

“Oh man, you haven't changed a bit. I've been reaaaaaaaally busy though! All sorts of hijinks and shenanigans.” Karkat glared at him harder, and shoved another spoonful of mystery food into his mouth. “Heir, you're doing that thing. The thing where you begin to sound like Scorpio. Please stop doing that, I'm asking you nicely, because dealing with her is bad enough. The Zone has enough psychopaths to last it a fucking lifetime, okay?”

Heir frowned at him at that, huffing slightly as he crossed his arms. “Cancer, she's not a Psychopath! She's going by Spider now though.” Cancer only rolled his eyes, finishing the last of his can. “Sorry, let me rephrase that. Sociopath. Psychopath's feel the need to kill people, she just does it for kicks. Happy, Egderp?” Karkat was feeling a cold tendril of anger rising up within. Very few of Zodiac could say they were still friendly with Vriska Serket after the fallout of the Great Push – in between (allegedly) being the reason Aradia was Monolith'd, leaving Tavros behind to face a Controller on his own and the (admittedly, accidental) blinding of Terezi, the only people who were still willing to bear her presence voluntarily were Kanaya, Gamzee, Equius and Feferi (and Eridan then, by proxy).

“Oh come on! She said she was sorry!”

“Sorry? SORRY?!” Unable to restrain himself, Cancer exploded. “SHE NEARLY KILLED ARIES, TAURUS AND LIBRA! She gunned down an entire squad of stalkers because they were, and I fucking quote, 'getting in the way of my plans'! So, forgive me, Egbert, if I believe this warrants the idea that maybe she's a fucking sociopath and should be avoided!”

 

* * *

 

The cheerful banter of the bar in Yanov station was shattered, when the doors on both sides were thrown open simultaneously. Standing in the western doorway was a tall female, long blonde hair tied back in a pony tail with a mad grinning face – an eyepatch over her left eye bore a stylised spider embroidered upon it and her sophisticated stalker suit was coloured with cobalt hues, traditionally the colour of Mercenaries; slung across her back was a particularly large RPG launcher. Many a stalker instinctively reached for their firearms, but refrained from taking any action in order to preserve the neutrality of Yanov station.

In the eastern doorway was a small woman, wearing a sleek stalker suit decorated with bright teal and candy red. Her short black hair was wild and free, as a long tongue ran across lips drawn in a cackling smile; opaque, red ski goggles obscured her eyes, but her tan nose inhaled deeply. A pair of large handguns hung in their holsters, the words LAW and ORD3R embossed on their respective barrels.

“Heeeeeeeello loooooooosers! Spider's back in town!”

“CRIMINALS BEWARE, THE INQUISITOR IS HERE!”

There was a silence thick enough to suffocate, as both Vriska 'Spider' Serket and Terezi 'Inquisitor' Pyrope stared (or sniffed) at each other from across the hall.

Both reached for their guns simultaneously with a shared roar of “YOU!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Images credited once more to STALKER Wiki.
> 
> Small hints of potential romance. Technically speaking, there aren't any quadrants (as they are all human), but I still think of the characters in terms of quadrants.


	3. Don't point that Gun at me, unless you intend to use it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kanaya breaks up a fight, Tavros raises his voice, Equius is proud and Nepeta hunts.

When Sollux 'Gemini' Captor left his small, underground broadcasting room in Yanov to get some food and drink at the bar, and possibly catch up with the other members of the former team Zodiac, he expected it to be a relatively routine affair, perhaps with some ribbing, perhaps maybe running into that sweaty obnoxious douche nozzle Equius and exchanging some heartfelt insults about each other's respective handiwork, likely being creeped out by Aradia's lack of general emotionality, before retreating to his broadcasting station and playing around with his new batch of materials.

Finding Kanaya revving her chainsaw as she calmly but determinedly stared down both a justice-hungry Terezi and a bloodthirsty (but no real change from normal there) Vriska was certainly not something he expected or otherwise was prepared to deal with. So he dealt with it the same way he dealt with nearly everything in life – he ignored it in favour of coffee and food.

 

“Got any coffee left, Hw?” The normally cheerful bartender known only as 'Hawaiian' nodded slowly, carefully reaching for the pot as he kept his eyes on the chainsaw. Everybody was on edge, waiting for a bullet to be fired – the moment a fight broke out, it was basically unsaid that both Freedom and Duty would probably use the event as an excuse to cause some 'accidental casualties' within each other's ranks, and every Loner was on guard in case they got caught in a crossfire between what was shaping up to be a large clusterfuck of a fight.

Sollux accepted the cup of coffee, shuffling over to a nearby table to pull out a loaf of bread, and, from behind a pair of red-blue goggles, he watched the situation develop.

 

“Scorpio. Libra. _Desist._ ” Kanaya revved her chainsaw slightly at that, jade green eyes flashing with the promise of vigorous violence if they refused.

“Stay out of this Fussyfangs! If Little Miss Justice wants a piece of me, then I'll give her aaaaaaaall she can handle!” Spider bared her teeth, levelling her launcher at Inquisitor, who simply bared her teeth right back, and adjusted her grip on her pistols.

“WHILST IT IS A DELIGHT TO TASTE YOUR FRAGRANT SPEARMINT MISS VIRGO, JUSTICE MUST BE SERVED AT ALL COSTS.” Light glinted off both LAW and ORD3R, as Vriska adjusted her launcher. Stalkers of all sides and allegiances began to edge their way out of the main hall, as the larger and better armoured individuals, garbed in the powerful Exoskeleton armour stood watch at either side's door. If anyone was going to survive the potential bloodbath, it was likely to be them.

Sollux ignored them all, as he bit into his bread, fiddling with his PDA as he chewed.

 

“Libra, I understand where you are coming from. _But there will be no fighting within the station or so HELP ME LADIES!_ ” Kanaya's calm steely voice rose to a shout at the end of her declaration, revving her chainsaw further and holding it up above her head. “If, for whatever reason, you feel a need to settle your issues with violence, then by all means do so _outside_.”

“MISS VIRGO,” Terezi began, as Vriska glanced over at Kanaya.

“Fussyfangs,” She snapped angrily, stroking the trigger of her launcher threateningly.

Kanaya revved her chainsaw once more and levelled both of them with a glare so withering, it could've killed a chimera. Silently, both parties began to lower their weapons, but maintained a steady staring match (or, at least, they attempted to do so as best they could when one party was blind).

“Thank you.” She said primly, letting her chainsaw slowly still but nonetheless watching over the two bickering stalkers. No longer under the impending threat of an explosive battle, the other stalkers began to trickle back in warily, the Exoskeleton guards both keeping a hand on their respective weapons.

 

No longer transfixed upon Inquisitor and Spider, Tavros shuffled over to Sollux, giving him a weak smile. “Hi Sollux,” He leaned forward onto the makeshift table, as Sollux glanced up from his PDA, “How have you uh, been?” Sollux drained his coffee and sighed.

“Bored mothtly, Tv. Good to thee your thtill alive. How'th life in that backwater hovel?” Tavros rolled his eyes – most of the others continually made fun of the fact that he had opted to live in a deep forest, away from most of the major Stalker areas; there were very little anomalies to produce artifacts and a surplus of mutants that made it a relatively unprofitable area to scavenge in, but there were those who, out of either foolhardiness or for reasons similar to Tavros's, made it their home. There was even a small bar, run by a tough-as-nails lady known only as 'Willow'.

“It's uh, fairly good. Another group, of newcomers, tried to extort me, again.” Sollux raised an eyebrow at that, putting his PDA away. “Yeah? How'd that work out for them?” Tavros looked at his mug of coffee a little sheepishly. “Uh... as usual, really. It was, rodents this time, though. Puck, Oberon and, Titania, were uh, hunting, I think.” 'Puck', 'Oberon' and 'Titania' were the names of Tavros's pet pseudodogs. A trio of particularly large, and vicious pseudodogs.

Sollux let out a low whistle at that. “That had to have hurt.” Tavros simply nodded silently. He never took joy or pride in what he did, but it was fear alone that prevented the majority of the less savoury characters from trying their luck – if killing a few in horrible ways was enough to prevent him from having to kill them all, then he was okay with that. Mostly. He tried not to let the screaming get to him.

“How's the uh, tech stuff?” Sollux gave Tavros a rare grin, before diving headfirst into a one-sided discussion about the variety of his work, never missing an opportunity to slip in the fact that he was 'tho much better than that meathead Eq'.

 

* * *

 

_The Pseudodog - the name is technically a misnomer, as the Pseudodog has more in common with the wolf than a dog. The Pseudodog is a vicious and efficient attacker, with a snarling maw that has spelled an early end for many stalkers - packs have been known to hunt even the most deadliest of mutants and take down veteran stalkers. Rumours abound of those who, through coincidence, luck or sheer tenacity, have managed to tame and gain the allegiance of these vicious killers._

 

* * *

 

It was decided, relatively wisely, to separate Vriska and Terezi as much as possible – Vriska was dragged by Kanaya over into the Duty half of Yanov, to take her to one of the few members of Zodiac who could tolerate her, and Terezi was left with Aradia and Gamzee, listening to the taller male ramble on about nothing whilst Aradia slipped her own oddly blunt comments in.

“MY APOLOGIES MISS ARIES, BUT YOU SIMPLY REEK OF THE ZONE; IT'S STRONG ENOUGH TO OVERPOWER MISTER CAPRICORN'S RIDICULOUSLY HEAVY HERBAL AROMA.” Gamzee let out a honking laugh at that, but Aradia did not visually react.

“It is okay. I understand.”

“Shiiiit, ain't a motherfucking thing to be done 'bout it, is there, Deadsis? Zone's all up and touched you, touched a lot of us. Like that mercenary motherfucker? What was his name?”

“MISTER LEBEDEV REFERRED TO HIM AS 'SCAR'.”

“He was all up and touched by the Zone too, ain't no big deal. Shit, ain't you touched too, Blindsis?”

Terezi nodded, adjusting her goggles. “INDEED. I MEAN NO OFFENCE TO MISS ARIES, BUT IT IS QUITE OVERPOWERING.”

“It is okay.”

Gamzee took a long draw from a joint, letting the smoke slowly seep out of the corner of his mouth in lazy tendrils, smiling in a uniquely dopey manner. “So chica, what kind of whack miracles you been making?” Terezi grinned, all teeth and tongue, as she fondled her favoured firearms.

 

“I RECENTLY PAID A VISIT TO A MISTER SNAG WHO HAS BEEN A VERY BAD BOY INDEED.” Gamzee let his head loll back on his shoulders, wriggling slightly in the pile of rags he was laying in. “Really? What'd the motherfucker do?”

“SEVERAL COUNTS OF THEFT, INCLUDING THE THEFT FROM A GOOD MAN'S PERSONAL STASH. HE WENT SO FAR AS TO ATTEMPT TO SWINDLE SAID MAN FROM A RECENTLY ACQUIRED FIREARM DELIVERED TO HIM BY EVERYONE'S MUTUAL FRIEND NIMBLE.” She said, cackling mildly to herself.

“Shit, Nimblebro's still up and operating? Motherfucking miracle man.”

“Nimble has always displayed a proclivity to surviving things he should not, despite knowing things he should not.” Aradia said quietly, sitting calmly a little to Gamzee's right so they formed something of a triangle in the mess of rags, blankets, mattresses and what was probably a pillow at one point.

“INDEED. HE IS THRIVING AS THE ZONE'S, AND POSSIBLY THE WORLD'S, FIRST AND ONLY 'I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S NOT THE BLACK MARKET' DEALER. BUT SNAG HAS BEEN ATTEMPTING TO OBTAIN SEVERAL THINGS THAT MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT BELONG TO HIM. AND HE HAD THE GALL TO FLEE ZATON AFTER HE DID SO.”

“Shit, really? Where'd the sneaky ass motherfucker all up and go?”

“HERE, ACTUALLY. WE CORNERED HIM IN THE LOCAL SUBSTATION. MISTER SNAG REFUSED OUR OFFER OF PEACEFUL SURRENDER WITH THE OPTION OF PAYING A FINE OR COMMUNITY SERVICE, AND SO LAW AND ORD3R WERE FORCED TO METE OUT JUSTICE.” She let out a cackling laugh at that, causing Gamzee to mirror her with his honking laughter. Aradia simply sat there blankly.

 

“I don't get it.” She said quietly, causing the laughing duo to pause slightly.

“... I don't either.” Gamzee said quietly. Terezi and Gamzee began laughing again, whilst Aradia just blinked dully.

 

* * *

 

“Ah. Maryam. Serket. It is a pleasure to see you again.” The towering, sweat-slicked form of Equius 'Sagittarius' Zahhak was as imposing as ever. His heavily customised and modified exoskeleton suit lacked many (if not all) of the servomotors that the average stalker required in order to use it functionally, and had been painted in the auspicious red and black of Duty. His hair had been cut short at some point, but had regrown somewhat and tied back into a small ponytail. A pair of cracked, opaque black sunglasses rested on the bridge of nose, as he gave the two women a smart salute.

“Mercenary work, Serket? Being a gun for hire does not behoove one such as you.” Vriska rolled her eye dramatically, folding her arms across her chest. “And here you are playing Mr. Fixit to a bunch of lame jarheads, Zahhak. I'd say Mercenary work is waaaaaaaay more interesting than playing with little toys. Is... is that a fridge?” Equius bristled at the jab but nonetheless puffed out his chest at the mention of his job. “Indeed. Due to a shortage of appropriate spare materials in which to use in my work, I have been forced to salvage whatever I can from whatever I can. It is almost nostalgic.” During their time with Clear Sky, Equius had worked as a technician grappling with a severe lack of anything that could even be construed as appropriate materials to repair and maintain weapons and armour. Vriska rolled her eye, before leaning against a wall. “So, why'd you leave the Military, Sergeant Zahhak?” At this, Zahhak puffed his chest out once more.

“It's Lieutenant Zahhak now. Our contract with them was as good as over, unfortunately, due to the untimely demise of the SPETSNAZ platoon and HQ's refusal to respond to my communication attempts.” He gave her a pointed stare but said nothing – he had long suspected that Vriska had hand in their death but ultimately chose to say nothing. Ultimately, it didn't matter; they were dead and the Brass showed no signs of bothering to respond to any attempts at communication. “My association with the Military left me estranged from many of the civilian stalkers, but I found Duty was a suitably noble endeavour for me to join. We are the first and perhaps only line of defence of the World against the horrors of the Zone. I would ask why you have decided to take to selling your skills to the highest bidder but I can make an educated guess as to why.” His tone was slightly amused at that, but nonetheless held a tone of mild reprimand.

 

“At least Mercenarial business is more responsible than Makara's line of work.” He conceded at Vriska's feral laugh. Kanaya shook her head, muttering about rivalries and stupidity under her breath as Vriska leaned forward with interest alight in her eyes. “Oh? And what does the stupid clown do now?” Equius gave her a reprimanding glare but let out a sigh and relented almost immediately after. “Major Makara joined us in Duty for a brief spiel but left us for those... anarchistic hippies in Freedom shortly after.” At this, Vriska doubled over in laughter, slapping her leg. “That's fucking hilarious! That stupid moron probably fits right in with all those other loooooooosers.” Equius gave her another glare.

“Although Makara is no longer upholding the standards his rank bestowed upon him, he was still our direct superior and thus deserving of at least a modicum of respect Corporal Serket.”

“Jeez, Zahhak, you're still hung about the chain of command? It's over, they're dead, the Military doesn't give a shit. Figures you had to join the only group in the Zone that lets you fulfill your creepy submission fantasies.” A fresh wave of perspiration formed on Zahhak's forehead, causing him to mop it readily with a cloth he had on hand. “... Where's Leijon at? Don't tell me she followed you into Duty...” Kanaya chose this moment to interject.

“She did not, in fact. Nepeta has remained neutral and works as a mutant hunter. I believe she was tracking the local Chimera for Trapper, was she not?” Equius nodded, placing the ragged cloth back on the nearby bench. “Indeed. She has sent me a message not too long ago stating that she would be longer then previously predicted.”

 

* * *

 

_The Chimera - considered an apex of the animal mutants, the Chimera is a lone predator, who hunts at specific grounds at night, before retreating to it's nest to sleep during the day. It's main weapons are it's prodigious strength and razor sharp claws. Chimeras have been known to actively chase down and turn over military jeeps to prey upon the soldiers within. Chimeras, if found, should be avoided at all costs - if you can see it, chances are, it can see you. If a Chimera can see you, your estimated lifespan plummets._

 

* * *

 

 

In the quiet shadows of the ventilation station, a lone stalker sat crouched upon the tower, scanning the local surroundings with a pair of binoculars. The moon's pale light did not pierce the clouds above the Zone, and only with the aid of technology could she see in the dark. Slowly, almost ritualistically, she thumbed her PDA, activating it's voice recording function. “ _The lone Huntress in the night awaits her prey... the Huntress has staked out this location for two days without detection and has carefully purrpared her plan to claim her prize. But first... the purrey must come and it will as it has every other day._ ” She clung to the platform, low as she could go for at least an hour without moving.

Movement in her sights caught her attention and she focused the her binoculars on the rapidly moving figure. “ _The purrey arrives, unaware of the trap it stumbles into. The Huntress purrpares to strike._ ” She set her binoculars down and arched her back, stretching and flexing in preparation. Garbed in only an olive trenchcoat, and a form-fitting leather catsuit with ceramic plates added for protection, she donned a strange blue hat with two perky cat ears on top and and grabbed her chosen weapons. A pair of sharp, jagged metal clawed gauntlets.

“ _The Huntress strikes!_ ” She hauled herself up onto the railing and crouched there with feline grace, eyeing the Chimera as it darted about, waiting for the moment where it would pause.

It stopped next to a set of pipes to sniff the air, it's twin heads darting to and fro. The Huntress leapt from her perch, claws poised for the strike. The hideous mutant twisted it's heads when it scented her rapid approach and prepared to leap, but before it could launch itself forward with it's powerful leg muscles, the Huntress drove her claws into each of it's skulls, colliding heavily with it's back.

It roared in agony, bucking and twisting but she did not let go, only twisting her claws as it gave one last shudder before slumping forward. Rolling forward off of the Chimera, she slipped her claws from it's skulls and regarded her prize carefully. It was an impressive specimen, even for a Chimera. She wiped her claws on her trenchcoat, and began searching for a knife she brought along for the purpose of taking a trophy as proof of victory.

 

“Well hey there, little lady.” Her head snapped around as a small group of men in black and brown trenchcoats and ski masks emerged from some nearby bushes, leering at her in a feral manner. “Let's make this nice and easy, 'kay little girl? The boys are just a little rowdy and pent up, you understand how it goes? They need a little relaxation...” The Huntress glanced at them each in turn, mentally sizing them up. Five of them in total, armed mostly with sawn off shotguns, the sole exception being their leader who had a worn looking AKS-74u. A Predator never struck Prey without planning it's attack.

“Weeell,” She purred, straightening her back. “I suppose we _could_...” She made a show of removing her trench coat, revealing the form-fitting stalker suit underneath. One of the bandits wolf-whistled as the others began to advance, guns no longer at the ready. She threw the trenchcoat at them, it's billowing cloth blocking their vision as she darted forward, low to the ground and claws outstretched. Surprised, the bandits raised their weapons and fired, blowing a large hole through the coat but only grazing the Huntress's helmet. She swiped at the first, disembowelling him with ease as he cried in pain, and drove the claws through a second's chest. Using him as an impromptu shield from the fire of the bandit leader, she charged at the third who was busy reloading. Shearing his shotgun in half, he staggered back and made to reach for a side arm before the Huntress decapitated him in another swipe. A burst of buckshot struck her shield, and some managed to strike her armour, but the kevlar plating managed to hold. She slid the body off her claw and threw it at the offending bandit as the leader fumbled for a magazine. “I'LL KILL YOU, YOU CRAZY BITCH!” He shouted, as he slammed his ammunition in, and began frantically looking back and forth for the now missing stalker. The last bandit was lying down on the ground, face an unrecognisable mess from six criss-crossed slash marks.

 

A gloved hand wrapped around his mouth from behind as three sharp claws pierced through his back and out of his stomach. “ _When you're hunting a lion..._ ” The Huntress whispered into his ear, giving the claws a twist as he choked in pain, desperately pleading eyes meeting her own slitted pupils. “ _Always watch out for the claws._ ” She hissed, twisting them once more good measure. Once he had stilled, she let the body slide off her claws, and wiped them on her suit before moving over to her coat. “... Awwww.... Kanaya's really gonna be mad at me meow...”

 

* * *

 

“Oh my god, Gemini, are you still wearing those laaaaaaaame-ass goggles?” Scorpio's voice cut through the casual conversation between Taurus and Gemini, as both reluctantly turned to face her, Virgo only giving them an apologetic look from Scorpio's side. “Ath a matter of fact, yeth. Are you thtill betraying everyone who getth clothe to you?” He sniped back, glaring at her from behind his goggles. She snarled, and reached for her pistol but Virgo placed her hand on hers with a warning glare. Seething, she directed her fury towards another conduit. “Still pining for the Princess? Last I heard she was working with that useless asshole Ampora.” Sollux snarled angrily, but Taurus interjected before he could retaliate.

 

“Is there uh, something, you wanted, Scorpio?” He said, calmly as he could come across with his faltering voice. Gemini forgotten, Vriska snapped to Tavros, leering at him. “And how have you been, Nitram?” He regarded her with an indifferent stare, pointedly not making eye contact.

“Did you uh, come here, to make small talk, Scorpio, or, do you, have something important, to say?” Vriska only frowned at him, crossing her arms.

“Oh come oooooooon, Nitram, don't tell me you're STILL hung up about the Controller thing?” Taurus gave her a stare made of purest void, blank and empty of all feeling or significance except that which was inherent in nothing itself. “I don't uh, hate you for that, Scorpio, although, to be perfectly honest, I really uh, should. That said, I still can't, forgive you for it.” Scorpio let out an exaggerated moan with accompanied eye roll. “I SAID I was sorry, jeeeeeeeez!” Taurus grit his teeth and clenched his left fist. “Scorpio, I don't, have any legs, because of you. Every month, I have to remind, the bandits, that my uh, lack of legs, is not in fact, a sign of weakness.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“See? It made you stronger! Just like I said it would! It builds character! Didn't _you_ always want to be stronger?” Tavros snapped, slamming his hand on the table, cracking it slightly. “I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE THIS!” His normally weak and faltering voice boomed with the force of a cannon, silencing the bar as everyone turned to stare. “I didn't want to be this frightening figure, _I don't want to_ _feed_ _bandits to dogs and rats!_ I want to sleep without hearing them _scream_ , I want to open the door and not wonder if I have to watch somebody else be torn apart!”

The deafening silence hung about like an albatross around their necks, as Taurus stood there, panting slightly from his outburst before he realised what he had just did. “...” Blushing with embarassment, the dusky-skinned male chugged the rest of his coffee and left briskly, mechanical legs creaking slightly as he shoved the doors of Yanov open, not noticing the way everyone's stares followed him out. “... Wow.” Gemini stood there for a few seconds, simply awestruck, before he too left, this time heading to his private broadcasting room.

 

Virgo and Scorpio stood there silently for a few minutes as they got over their shock. The first to recover, Virgo turned to Scorpio with a deep breath.

“Vriska, I must ask that you stop behaving so recklessly.” Kanaya said coolly, giving Vriska her best authoritative stare. “What? I'm not being reckless!” She snapped back defensively.

“You aimed an RPG at _Terezi,_ during _lunch_ , in the middle of _a bar;_ now your picking fights with Gemini and antagonising Taurus! If, that is not reckless, Vriska, then please illuminate it for me!” Scorpio only responded with an exaggerated eye roll.

“Gemini's a weaky weak weakling and it's not my fault if everyone's too slow to get out of the way!” Kanaya snarled angrily, slamming a gloved hand onto a table, causing it to crack slightly.

“ _It is not everyone else's responsibility to avoid being killed due to your reckless behaviour Scorpio, it is your responsibility and YOURS ALONE to prevent others being harmed due to your own foolhardiness!_ ”

Vriska growled, thumbing her launcher almost reflexively. “Oh come on! You can't possibly be taking THEIR side over MINE!” Kanaya let her expression turn to ice, as she stared Vriska down.

“That is exactly what I am doing, Scorpio.” That was not the answer she was expecting.

“W... what?”

 

Kanaya let out a tired sigh, her expression sagging with her shoulders. “I chose you over everyone else too many times Vriska, out of some misguided belief that maybe I could change you, reform you... when you left Tavros to the controller and blinded Terezi, it was too much!”

“THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT!”

“IT WAS AN EASILY AVOIDABLE ACCIDENT CAUSED BY YOUR SELFISHNESS AND RECKLESSNESS!” The blonde female recoiled at the words, flinching at the stare.

“... That's basically the life story, isn't it, Scorpio? Easily avoidable accidents caused by recklessness and selfishness.” Virgo whispered, glancing down with a sorrowful sigh. “But I can't choose you over everyone any more Scorpio. I took everyone in Yanov under my protection. I swore to protect and uphold the peace and neutrality, and so help me, if you threaten it...”

“You'll what?” Scorpio snapped bitterly, betrayal masked upon her face as clear as a summer's day, “Ask me to leave?” Virgo's eyes flashed with steely determination as her face twisted into a threatening snarl. “I will _force_ you Scorpio. And if I have to, _I will_ _ **kill**_ _you._ ”

Vriska stepped back, hurt flashing in her eyes. “... You don't mean that...” Kanaya straightened herself, now completely and utterly the Matron of Yanov if never before. “I do. I will. I must. The Stalkers of Yanov are my responsibility, Scorpio, and I will do whatever it takes to protect them. From Mutants. From Emissions. From Duty, or Freedom. From the Military. Or from _you,_ Scorpio... Vriska. Please... don't force me to do that.”

“Force you?” Scorpio gave her a bitter smile stained with heartbreak, “I'm not forcing you to do _anything,_ Virgo. I just thought maybe I had an ally... a _friend_ in Kanaya Maryam. Silly old Vriska, thinking she still had people she could _trust_.”

Kanaya flinched at her words, recoiling into herself.

“Vriska, I,” Scorpio ignored her, stalking out of the doors of Yanov as the gathered patrons of the Bar gave her a wide berth. Virgo stood there weakly, outstretched arm faltering as she watched the doors slam shut.

 

* * *

 

_The Snork - the horrific result of mutation within a soldier or stalker. The Snork's eyesight is poor, but tracks it's prey using it's elongated nose through the tubing of the gas mask. Once found, it attacks by leaping with it's strong hind legs, biting and clawing with efficency. Snorks are considered only a mild threat by veteran stalkers, but the unassuming or unwary are easy prey in the night to these leaping monstrosities._

 

* * *

 

A pair of gloved hands fiddled incessantly with a box-like machine, adjusting dials and knobs as a small radar dish revolved slowly on top of it. Behind the fiddling figure, another, identical figure was opening fire on a pack of incoming snorks, dropping an empty magazine on the ground as he reloaded his SIG-550 assault rifle, aiming down an attached scope.

“ _I'm almost done!_ ” The first one said cheerfully, a decidedly feminine voice distorted by the closed respiration system used in their SEVA suits. “ _Not to rush you or anythin' Fef, but I'm runnin' loww on ammo here!_ ” The strange, almost wobbly accented voice replied. The armed stalker smashed a leaping snork with the butt of his gun and fired a few rounds into it's skull for good measure.

'Fef' flicked a switch with a beep, and got up from her position. “ _Okay! All good!_ ” She stepped up to where her companion was, drawing her own weapon from her back – an Armsel Protecta model shotgun. She grinned behind her spherical visor, patting the cylindrical drum containing it's shells. As the pack of snorks regrouped for a second charge, she got down on one knee, keeping her aim steady. As soon as they were a few metres away, she began to fire, emptying shell after shell into the advancing snorks. Drum depleted, she casually replaced it as she reviewed her handiwork. “ _Fef, wwas that really necessary?_ ” Her companion said dryly, giving the corpses an appraising look. She simply rolled her eyes at him, slinging the large weapon across her back once more. “ _Well, Mister Ampora, if you'd have prefeeered to be gnawed on by mutants, then you shoal'd have said so!_ ”

“ _Uh-huh, I'll keep that in mind for next time._ ” He replied snippishly, checking over his rifle. “ _Anythin' else you needed to do?_ ” She tapped her visor thoughtfully in place of her chin.

“ _Nope! That shoal'd be everyfin!_ ” She said cheerfully, holding her outstretched hand for a high five. “ _An-otter job well done!_ ” Ampora grudgingly high fived her with an exasperated sigh.

“ _Seriously, Fef, howw do you remain so damn upbeat here? Not that it's a bad thin'._ ” She simply giggled and began to skip away.

 

When they reached a nearby outpost on their way back to their base, they were accosted by a band of bandits, numbering at least ten men. “Hold it right there!” One shouted, hunting rifle in hand. “Put your weapons on the ground, and leave behind your backpacks and nobody has to get hurt.” The two stalkers glanced at each other, as if debating what to do. “ _Are you shore you want to try this?_ ” She said simply, raising her hands in the air in surrender nonetheless.

“And what are you going to do, outnumbered ten to one?” He sneered, advancing slightly with a few others to strip them of their equipment as Ampora reluctantly did the same. “ _Oh, I'm not going to do anyfin. He is though._ ”

The bandits glanced at each other, watching the unmoving duo as if to see what it was that 'he' would do. The sound of something hitting the hard ground in front of them drew their eyes, where a small innocent grenade sat. Both SEVA-suit stalkers dived for cover immediately as one of the bandits made to shout in alarm before it detonated, fragmentation flying at fatal velocities in all directions.

The bandits began firing on the duo, who were now safely behind cover, shouting angrily and attempting to retain some form of cohesion. Their light gunfire was slowly dwindling as one by one they fell in tune with the sudden crack of a sniper rifle. When the last bandit toppled over a railing, blood spurting from a superfluous new hole in his forehead, the duo glanced at each other, debating whether it was safe.

Ampora was about to poke his head out when another crack rang out. “ _Red carpet for the Royalty. The way is clear, Peixes, Ampora._ ” A voice crackled to life on their radios, deadpan and blank. “ _Thanks again, Tyrant. Come on Eridan! They're probably already netting the results in and WE'RE NOT THERE TO SEA IT!_ ” She grabbed Eridan by the hand, dragging him along excitedly. “ _Wwoah! Sloww dowwn Fef! Wwe need Tyrant to covver us!_ ” The hidden sniper didn't respond except for a small dismissive snort.

 

They managed to make it back to the Bunker with little other incident, passing the group of stalkers camped outside with a wave and a few greetings. Inside the safety of the fortified bunker, they removed their helmets. Eridan Ampora had a pale face with upswept blonde hair, a strange purple streak through the middle and a pair of thickly-framed glasses. His companion on the other hand, had a veritable sea of flowing brown hair framing a dark-skinned face with the widest grin and brightest blue eyes. She practically sprinted over to the main research lab, Eridan trailing behind her with an air of complete exasperation.

“Soooo, so, so, so! How are the results?!” She said, hopping up and down with the enthusiasm of a child on a particularly large sugar rush. The scientist scratched the back of his head, laughing slightly. “Calm down, Feferi. The results are coming in clear, but we don't have enough to make any theories draw any conclusions just yet.”

“Awwww...” She said, deflated, plopping down into a chair disappointedly. Eridan only rolled his eyes with a huff causing her to punch his arm good naturedly. “We do have some more things that need to be done though.” Feferi brightened immediately at this, practically jumping onto her feet.

“Shore! Whatever needs to be done!” Hermann chuckled at her childish enthusiasm, giving Eridan an amused look. “There should be some documents of previous research in the Jupiter power plant. Could you go and see if they are still there, and if so, bring them back? Any prior notes would always help.

“Will Tyrant be coming with us again?” Hermann had an amused expression on his face as he turned back to his terminal. “Ask him yourself. He's right behind you.”

Both Feferi and Eridan whirled around with a startled shout as Hermann chuckled. 'Tyrant' was a short, stocky male, wearing a Wind of Freedom suit repainted to the blue and grey colours of a Mercenary and a matching gas mask. Across his back was a Dragunov, and at his side was a desert eagle. “... _Right behind you._ ” He said in a deadpan, ignoring the way both Feferi and Eridan gave him annoyed stares.

“Stop doin' that, Tyr!” Eridan snapped angrily. Tyrant's reply was just a blank stare from his gas mask.

“ _... I do not understand. Am I to discontinue shadowing you?_ ”

“You knoww exactly wwhat I meant!” He simply shrugged, and disappeared into the hall way.

“ _Whenever you're ready._ ”

“... That guy... is a freakin' asshole.” Eridan muttered, staring at the spot he used to be. Feferi rolled her eyes but nonetheless made a noise of agreement. “Come on, Jupiter awaits!” She said excitedly, dragging Eridan from the lab. “Can't I just havve a little bit of food first?”

“Nope!” With yet another exasperated sigh, Eridan Ampora allowed himself to be dragged away by Feferi Peixes. “You can eat on the way!” She said brightly.

When they reached the airlock, they sat there for a few seconds whilst Eridan rummaged around in his backpack. “Fef, you got any bread?” A loaf was shoved in his face and he accepted it gratefully. “Thanks, Fe-AAAH!” Tyrant blinked behind his mask from his position behind the duo, hand still outstretched from where he had given Eridan the bread.

“ _It is unwise to enter an engagement on an empty stomach._ ” Feferi placed her helmet back on, chuckling slightly at Eridan's generally perturbed expression as he quickly ate the bread before placing his own helmet back on. Tyrant nodded and let them advance a good distance, before glancing at the night sky. Silently, he activated his night vision, and stalked after his charges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all the trolls introduced! Also, people do not like Vriska.
> 
> Which is not to say that I do not - I like her a lot actually, but within the confines of Chernobylbound... she's kind of a dick. She has a more sympathetic side (which will be explored), but for now, you only get to see the bad things she's done.
> 
> If it's not obvious, I don't really like the Bandit faction for relatively obvious reasons. They're assholes.


	4. The Conspiracy of the Senses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feferi and Eridan get into trouble, Karkat has had a very bad day, Gamzee delivers Zone Justice, John regales Tavros with his exploits, and Kanaya plays Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I made Gamzee scary enough.

If you had asked a young and carefree seven year old Eridan Ampora where he wanted to be in twenty years, the answer would quite simply be 'By Feferi Peixes's side'. Having said that, he had never envisioned they would be exploring a radioactive nuclear power plant in the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, as part of a detachment for a Government-sponsored Science team.

“ _So wwhat are wwe lookin' for exactly?_ ” His voice was too muffled by the suits they wore to protect them from both the radiation and anything that decided they were easy prey, but the inbuilt short-wave radio's made it much easier to just talk through those despite being right next to each other. Feferi rolled her eyes behind her visor, rifling through the contents of an abandoned desk. “ _Documents. Papers. Anyfin to do with experiments reel-y._ ” Feferi said casually, examining a set of pens.

The loud, tell-tale crack of Tyrant's sniper rifle reached their ears. At first, they had assumed it was just a stray mutant, but another crack followed by the chatter of machine gun fire had them worried. “ _Tyrant? Status report!_ ”

“ _Get out. Now. Grab whatever you can and get out of there!_ ” Feferi frowned at the received message, as more gunfire raged on. Eridan carefully shuffled over to a nearby window. “ _Tyrant, what's going on?_ ”

“ _Strike team, mercenaries, I think, fired a warning shot, told them to piss off, they returned fire. Get out of there Peix-_ ” The radio cut off to static in synchronisation with a loud boom. “ _Tyrant? Tyrant?! TYRANT?!_ ”

“ _Uh, Fef. This is bad._ ” Eridan peered through a pair of binoculars, watching the small band of highly trained mercenaries file into the building. Feferi seethed, palming her visor. “ _Tyrant was on the floor above us right?_ ” Eridan bowed slightly in place of a nod – an act which would have been invisible behind the visor. “ _We need to kelp him!_ ” Feferi moved to leave, but Eridan grabbed her arm.

“ _Fef, he ain't respondin'! I hate to say it, but he's probably already dead, and if wwe wwaste any time gettin' out of here, wwe're goin' to end up like him!_ ” Feferi whirled on Eridan, eyes flashing with fury.

“ _I'M NOT LEAVING HIM BEHIND!_ ” She shouted, wrenching arm from Eridan's grip, “ _He's watched over us for half a year now, and I will be damned Eridan Ampora, if I don't even try to kelp him!_ ” She stalked off, to the stairs and presumably, to where Tyrant's likely corpse was. Eridan sighed, looking down at the ground forlornly, before readying his assault rifle. Where Feferi went... he would follow.

 

Tyrant was a bloody mess, Feferi realised with a start. Slumped on the ground, propped up on a overturned table, watching the door weakly with a desert eagle in his hand, he seemed ready for his last stand. There were clear signs of an explosion – fragmentation was embedded into just about everything, including Tyrant himself. “... P... Peixes...” He muttered, gazing up at her with one green eye. Blood streamed down his face and lips, a piece of jagged metal jutting suddenly from his left eye, and every now and then he'd give a weak wet cough, blood spilling from his lips like scarlet tears. “You... sh... should've... fled...” He muttered again, gun arm falling to the side. Feferi set herself upon him, rummaging through her packs for some of her more advanced med kits, popping her visor open. “Would you have left us behind?” She said waspishly, popping open the casing on the kit. “... You... don't deserve... to die here...” Feferi grabbed a pair of forceps and moved to remove a large piece of shrapnel in his chest. “And you do?” She said, raising an eyebrow at him. He gave her a wheezing chuckle, causing more blood to flow. “I... killed my friends... you know...” He muttered, almost dryly as she finished pulling the piece of jagged metal from his body. She almost dropped the forceps when she registered what he said. “Wh... what?” He gave her another weak smile, blood dribbling out of the corner.

“Controller...” He gasped, “Took... control of them... tried to save them... failed...” He grimaced as he gave another wet hacking cough. “... Sorry...” He muttered, as Feferi wiped some blood from her face. “It's okay, I'll get you all betta and out of here in a moment,” He shook his head, wincing slightly at the movement.“Not that... f'r... this...” He gave her a wheezing chuckle, scarlet blood dribbling slightly. “How g'd are y'r... wit' 'xplosives?”

 

* * *

 

Karkat slumped at the table next to Gamzee, cracking open a can of cheap energy drink. “Oh, sup Karbro. Just in time. Flintbro was all up and getting his story telling on.” Karkat simply grunted, opening his can of 'Tourist's Breakfast' with a disdainful grimace.

“I'll tell you everything you need to know about Bloodsuckers.” Flint began, a boastful grin on his face. “When I was in Zaton, I found the asshole's nest, and decided to give the local loner's a helping hand,” Karkat promptly did a spit-take, greyish gruel flying everywhere.

“FUCK OFF YOU DID!” He roared, slamming his hands onto the table. “I WENT THROUGH TOO MUCH FUCKING TROUBLE FOR SOME RANDOM DICKFUCKING BUCKET OF DOUCHE TO TAKE THE CREDIT!” He snarled, turning slightly red in the face. Flint glared back at him, wiping bits of 'Tourist's Breakfast' off his face. “Go spew your horseshit somewhere else, asshole!” He snapped back.

 

Terezi grinned madly at the next table over, as a Stalker leaned towards Aradia slightly. “... Isn't he the guy from Forbidden Romance?” He whispered, causing Aradia to nod gently.

“That is correct. Cancer remains unaware of this fact. Drawing attention to it may or may not cause a violent reaction.” The Stalker nodded slowly.

“So an autograph is out of the question?”

 

“ _ASSHOLE?_ I'M THE ASSHOLE?! I'M SORRY, WERE YOU LOOKING IN A MIRROR OR WERE YOU TOO BUSY SPEWING VAPID BULLSHIT FROM YOUR GAPING WASTE CHUTE?” Gamzee patted Karkat on the shoulder softly, his stupid grin fading into a small moronic smile. “Karbro, get your motherfucking calm on and shit.”

“CALM? _CALM?! I PRACTICALLY HAD TO SUCK OWL'S FETID SHRIVELLED EXCUSE FOR A DICK TO GET THE INFORMATION I NEEDED TO KILL THOSE LOVECRAFTIAN COCKSUCKERS AND YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN?!_ ” Karkat's face had gone into full rage mode, his normally pale, freckled skin having swelled to an ugly red, as his expression stretched into a vicious snarl. “It's your word against a Freedomer, asshole, so see where that gets you.” Flint sniped back smugly, crossing his arms across his chest. Karkat practically exploded.

“ _YOU FECULENT PILE OF BURER SHIT!_ ” Before Gamzee could stop him, he practically vaulted over the table at Flint, preparing to slug the Stalker in the face. Flint jumped back, as Karkat advanced, murderous fury in his eyes. Flint drew his pistol and fired.

 

The silence that fell after the gunshot was thick enough to choke on. Whilst there was the occasional barfight, drawing one's gun was expressly forbidden. That a Freedomer had drawn a gun and fired on a unaffiliated Stalker was an invitation for Duty to not only attack Freedom, but do so with the assistance and backing of the Loners. “THIS IS BETTER THAN LAW AND ORDER.” Terezi whispered to Aradia, cackling quietly. The exoskeleton guards burst in from either side of the station, and other stalkers from the side rooms peered in cautiously.

“Flintbro...” Gamzee began, voice deceptively quiet and lacking it's odd, warbling alternation, “Tell me my MOTHERFUCKING EYES HAVE ALL UP AND BEEN DECEIVING ME... tell me my ears ARE ALL IN THE CONSPIRACY...” He hissed, rising from his usual slouch to his full height, looming over like an angry giant. Karkat clutched his bleeding shoulder, no longer swearing, only watching as Gamzee advanced, every inch a predator. “He... he started-” A gloved hand streaked across the other Freedomer's face in a backhand strike, spinning around and onto the table behind him, causing the wary stalkers to quickly shift out of the way. “I don't remember asking ya what Karbro did, I KNOW WHAT HE MOTHERFUCKING DID. I'm asking a motherfucker if a motherfucker did what I MOTHERFUCKING THINK HE DID. Tell me Flintbro, that a motherfucker didn't shoot my motherfucking KARBRO. Didn't draw his motherfucking pistol. DIDN'T PULL THE MOTHERFUCKING TRIGGER. Tell me that's what happened, Flintbro.” 

Duty held off from declaring the Truce nullified as all watched the events proceed. “Don't tell me you're taking his side over mine!” Flint shouted, a bruise already forming on his face. Gamzee gave him another one to match. “I AIN'T HEARING A DENIAL, FLINTBRO. All my ears are telling me is you avoiding the question. AM I TO TAKE THIS AS AN AFFIRMATIVE? Am I to believe that you did, in fact, draw your motherfucking pistol, that you did, in fact, PULL THE MOTHERFUCKING TRIGGER... that you did, in fact, shoot, my motherfucking, BROTHER, KARKAT 'CANCER' VANTAS, IS THAT A THING THAT HAS HAPPENED?!” His voice had escalated into a full blown booming shout, causing Flint to flinch.

 

Inquisitor clanked a pair of cans together, and cleared her throat. “MISTER CAPRICORN,”

“What the MOTHERFUCK?” Gamzee barked, twisting his head around to view her from the corner of his eyes.

“JUST BECAUSE MISS VIRGO IS NOT CURRENTLY PRESENT, IT DOES NOT MEAN WE CAN GO AROUND BEING VIOLENT WILLY NILLY, REGARDLESS OF THE ACTIONS OF ANYBODY ELSE.” Capricorn seemed about to perform an acrobatic pirouette off the handle when Inquisitor continued. “IF YOU ARE GOING TO KILL LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE, PLEASE DO IT OUTSIDE. THINK OF THE PATRONS WHO ARE EATING.” She said, with a mad grin. Flint looked at Gamzee in horror. “You... you aren't seriously going to kill me are you?!” The Clown-stalker said nothing, picking him up by the front of his stalker suit and throwing him through the double doors with deceptive ease. Flint hit the ground roughly, rolling over to stagger to his feet.

 

Stalkers of all affiliations rushed to the door as Capricorn stalked out, shoulders hunched and fingers flexing. Flint scrabbled for his submachine gun, but Gamzee ripped it out of his hands easily. He gripped it by the barrel and stock, and flexed his arms. With a horrible screeching sound, the fire arm tore in two, and Gamzee threw the useless pieces of metal away. Flint just fell backwards onto his ass, an expression of complete dawning horror on his face as Gamzee continued to advance. “Do you know what the punishment for this UNMIRACULOUS ACT OF VILE BETRAYAL IS, Flintbro?” Gamzee whispered. Terezi cackled madly, and strode forward from the doors, adjusting her goggles slightly. “WHY, I DO BELIEVE THE MOST SUITABLE PUNISHMENT IS SUMMARY EXECUTION MISTER CAPRICORN. I HAVE A READY-MADE NOOSE IF YOU'D LIKE.” Nobody questioned why Inquisitor just happened to have a hangman's noose on her – her exploits were already widely known (and some had even watched the circulated video of former Bandit leader Borov's trial and consequent hanging – the jury was composed entirely of dead Bandits).

“Hanging? NO. Motherfucker needs to be an example. AIN'T NO HANGING WAITING FOR A MOTHERFUCKER who all up and does something like this.”

Karkat staggered to the group of stalkers, sporting a freshly bandaged shoulder. “... He's not going to do what I think he's going to do, is he?” He muttered to Sollux, who had a camcorder with him, grinning slightly as he captured the proceedings on video. “Probably, Kk. Shit, he'th probably going to be unrecognithable onthe Gz ith done with him.”

 

Gamzee grabbed Flint by the jaw, hauling him up to his feet. “For deceiving your fellow motherfuckers, and daring to hide behind YOUR MOTHERFUCKING BROTHERS...” He pried the struggling stalker's mouth open, ignoring his protests and beating hands with casual ease. “YOUR LYING, SERPENT TONGUE.” With a single, terribly smooth movement, he tore the muscle from Flint's face, in a horrific spray of blood. Gamzee's painted face did not even shift it's expression from cold determined fury as Flint screamed in agony. “For raising a gun to a motherfucker's brother, and daring to pretend THAT HE AIN'T AT FAULT FOR HARMING THE NEUTRALITY OF THE MOTHERFUCKING SHELTER...” He gripped Flint's hand in his own, and his elbow in his other. “YOUR BETRAYING, BACKSTABBING HAND.” Karkat felt bile rise up his throat as the sickening sound of cracking bone and tearing flesh reached his ears mingled with the discordant cacophony of Flint's wailing. Sollux only whistled lowly. “Shit. Who knew he wath tho thtrong?”

“Finally, for the above crimes, for RESISTING ONE'S OWN MOTHERFUCKING RIGHTEOUS JUDGEMENT and for raising a gun to one's own motherfucking brother-in-arms...” He thrust his hand into Flint's mouth, gripping the top half and placed his other hand on the soon-to-be executed stalker's shoulder. “YOUR WORTHLESS, MISERABLE LIFE.”

 

Flesh began to rip and bones began to snap as Karkat emptied the contents of his stomach. “Holy shit, thith ith going to be a fucking internet thenthation if it maketh it out of the Thone.” Karkat gave him a weak glare from his hunched over position. “... Glad someone enjoys this...”

 

* * *

 

_Burers - a Humanoid mutant possessing powerful telekinetic powers theorised to be the result of secret USSR experimentation, Burers are fearsome creatures that travel in pairs if not outright groups. Retaining only passing resemblance to humans, they are often nicknamed 'Dwarves' for their short and stocky appearance. Burers abhor the light of the outside world, and will often be found in underground locations. Burers are feared for their ability to break both armour and weapons on a whim, and tear a Stalker limb from limb without the poor unfortunate victim ever realising they were there._

 

* * *

 

Skull stalked up the stair case, followed by his fellow mercenary who bore the equally delightful callsign of 'Corpse'. A duo of eggheads had come in search of documents; documents they had been specifically assigned to ensure never reached the hands of the scientists. They were specifically instructed not to destroy the documents, only to prevent anyone from getting to them until their client could have them retrieved themselves.

The duo had always been shadowed by a short sniper, who was on the Ecologist's payroll. Thankfully, after he had managed to kill Surgeon and wound Koshey, Stake had managed to get a grenade in his room – there had been no more firing after the explosion. Skull and Corpse had been sent up one flight of stairs, with Stake and Duplet up the other; the remaining two, Black and Koshey, remained on the ground floor in case the eggheads somehow managed to get past them.

They reached the floor they had seen the Sniper on, carefully entering the corridor. Stake and Duplet hadn't gotten up to this level, and were presumably exploring one of the lower levels from their side – an act both Skull and Corpse would have done themselves, but could not find an entrance to do so, as all doors were locked and blocked by rubble. They advanced cautiously, checking the side rooms. An overturned table laid in front of them, a small blood trail leading up to it from the other side. Skull signalled for Corpse to hold back, whilst he checked it out.

He crept up to the table, before practically darting around to see what lay behind it. Tyrant's faintly wheezing form was propped up against it, gazing up at him with only one green eye. “Skull...” He gasped, fresh blood welling up in his mouth. He looked like he was clinging to life through sheer strength of will, so Skull relaxed. “ _Tyrant. Where are the other two?_ ” Tyrant chuckled, a wet hacking sound interspersed with coughing. “Above. They're... preparin' themselves... f'r... y'r...” He gave him a weakly defiant smile. Skull simply snorted. “ _Stake, Duplet, when you're done sweeping the lower floors, get up here. Black, Koshey, you too. The Eggheads are trying to stage a last stand, might be troublesome._ ” There was a small chorus of affirmatives on the radio, and within a few minutes, all six mercenaries had assembled together.

 

“ _This the bastard that shot me?_ ” Koshey queried, peering at the dying form of Tyrant. Tyrant gave him a weak grin. “M' apologies... normally... y'd b' dead... right now...” Koshey raised his shotgun.

“ _Why haven't we just blown his fucking brains out already?_ ” He barked out, preparing to do that very act himself. Stake rolled his eyes. “ _He's already dying, Koshey. Let him suffer for Surgeon._ ” Koshey reluctantly lowered his shotgun, before stomping on Tyrant's thigh, causing him to cry out as a piece of shrapnel scraped against bone. “ _Hmph. Stupid asshole._ ”

Black glanced upwards. “ _So the Scientists are up there?_ ” Skull nodded, checking his shotgun disinterestedly. “ _Yeah. Barricaded in._ ” Black raised his custom assault rifle, leering behind his mask. “ _Then what are we waiting for?_ ” Before he could answer his own question, Tyrant raised a trembling hand. “This.” He wheezed, pressing his thumb down on a detonator.

 

When they heard the sound of explosions, and the rumbling of concrete falling, Eridan Ampora and Feferi Peixes immediately tore down their light, improvised barricade that blocked the door of the fourth floor on one side, unlocking the door rapidly, and making as fast a getaway as they could. “ _Holy shit Fef, howw much C4 wwas Tyr packin'?_ ” Feferi landed in a roll from the second floor of the stair case, preferring to jump than descend and risk remaining in the potentially collapsing building – Eridan followed suit shortly after. “ _Enough to collapse the upper floors so we better keep moving!_ ” Feferi shouted, grabbing Eridan's hand and half-pulling, half-dragging him out to a reasonably safe distance.

Despite the claim, the upper floors did not actually collapse – at least, in their entirety. A good chunk of one side had blown out, and the inner corridors were probably a large mess, but the building had nonetheless remained upright, a testament to it's engineering and architecture. “ _... I hope these documents are freakin' wworth it._ ” Eridan muttered quietly, staring at the floor Tyrant had been on.

He had asked Feferi to rig the C4 to a remote detonator; he would attempt to lure the Mercenaries to the top floor before detonating the explosives, killing both himself and the squad of cut throats in one fell swoop. The two scientists would, hopefully, be in the floor above him, behind a few set of barricades to prevent any of the Mercs from getting to them. Evidently, he was successful as Feferi and Eridan had seen nor encountered none of the mercenaries.

 

“ _... Come on. We have to get these back to Hermann._ ” Feferi muttered, turning to Eridan. “ _Do you still have his PDA...?_ ” Before they had left him to his suicide mission, he had asked them to courier his PDA to Hermann, with only the somewhat infuriating explanation that he'd know what to do with it. Eridan nodded, and with one last glance behind them, they set off for the Bunker.

 

* * *

 

Tavros didn't know how long he had been walking. The sun had long since set, and the night sky was upon him. It probably wouldn't do very well for him to continue like this – he'd need to return to Yanov, or find some appropriate shelter. It'd have to be something he could close off from the outside world – he didn't fancy waking up in the middle of the night because a bloodsucker was hungry.

He could see a small set of buildings with a crackling camp fire up ahead. Pulling the collar of his trenchcoat up to ward off the cold, he began walking towards it at a brisk pace, silently hoping it wasn't full of bandits and renegades. The last thing he needed to do right now was have to tire himself out calling up a pack of dogs or something to protect himself after he had, rather foolishly, left his rucksack at Yanov.

There was only one person sitting by the fire, a pair of blue-tinted goggles hanging around his neck. At the sound of footsteps, he instinctively raised an assault rifle but immediately relaxed when he saw Tavros's raised hands. “... Wait, aren't you one of Cancer's friends? Taurus, right?” The stalker grinned at him, all sunshine and beaming, holding out his hand for him to shake. “I'm Heir!” He said brightly, and Taurus made a small 'oh' noise.

 

He had never met Heir face to face, only heard about him through the others – most had referred to him in terms less kinder than would normally be considered polite, but otherwise grudgingly admitted he was kind of endearing. Vriska had practically referred to him as the epitome of cool. He wasn't seeing it. Then again, despite his almost bumbling appearance, there had been a brief moment when he was approaching where he had been all business, a single moment of predatory grace buried under a grinning demeanour.

This was the leader of the Fool's Court, the group that had somehow managed to pierce the Heart of the Zone. The ones who had changed everything... for better or for worse. “It's uh, good to, finally meet you. Not that, I was waiting, just that, I had heard a, lot about you.” Heir simply laughed, and gestured at a barrel. “Have a seat, have a seat! What brings you out this way at this time of night?” He said cheerfully, turning back to the fire, and the small pot of gruel that was 'cooking'. Frankly, as far as everyone was concerned, it couldn't get any worse.

“Oh... Uh... I uh... had a, bit of an explosion, of sorts. I was, originally, just getting some, space and air, but, well... that was a uh, few hours ago.” Heir simply chortled at that, chopping up some sausage and throwing it into the gruel. Taurus's stomach growled, causing him to blush slightly with embarassment. “Hahaha, did you want some?” The unassuming stalker spooned some into a ceramic bowl, handing it over to Taurus lackadaisically. “It's not great, but it'll really fill you up!” He prepared a bowl for himself, happily devouring it as Taurus ate a more sedate pace.

“... It's not uh, that bad, actually.” Taurus says quietly, eating a little more vigorously. John brightened considerably at that, positively shining with joy. “Ha! Take that Rose, somebody else thinks it's good!” He chewed a piece of sausage, swallowing it with a sigh of relief. “Can you believe she accused me of trying to poison her? I mean, for starters, like I'd do something like _that_! Where would we be without her? Unless, all of a sudden, there's somebody else in the Zone who can get us to Pripyat without dying, but even then, we're still super best friends!” Taurus perked up slightly at that, chewing the sausage-gruel mix a bit further before swallowing to speak.

 

“You can uh, get to Pripyat?” Ever since the Brain Scorcher had mysteriously shut off, Stalkers from just about _everywhere_ in the Zone (and even some from outside) began lining up to take a shot at reaching the fabled Centre, dreaming of untouched treasure troves of Artifacts or loot, of legends such as the Oasis or Wish Granter... or the amount of idiots they could fleece. Life was hard in the Zone. Life was hard and nobody understands.

He had heard the Fool's Court was aiming at getting in to the Centre, but he wasn't aware they had actually succeeded – apparently, extensively so. John nodded vigorously, grinning in almost endearingly stupid way. “Mmhmm! Rose takes us on this reaaally weird path, and it's full of anomalies and mutants and all sorts of things. And Monolith. Man, those guys are _jerks_. Like, I thought the Bandits were kind of dicks? And, the Military too, especially at Cordon, _hoo boy._ Back when I still lost my memories, and I was back at Cordon like a newbie again, they fired on me! With a big ass machine gun! Who does that?” Taurus watched him begin rambling and ranting about the Military and why there were jerks for a few more seconds before interrupting. “You uh, lost your, memories?” Heir paused, before letting out another laugh.

 

“Ohhhh maaan, there's a story and a half. You know, if I ever get out of the Zone, I should sell the rights to my life story. If anyone believes it! I can barely believe it myself sometimes you know?” He gives Taurus another grin, all buck teeth and infectious cheer. “But I did lose my memories! I was kind of brainwashed? You know, like the Monolith, only I wasn't a Monolith proper, I was just given this mission, like implanted reaaally deep into my brain? Dave was showing me this new movie from out the Zone, and I don't really know where he gets those but it was fairly cool, and it had Leonardo DiCaprio in it, and it was all about going into peoples heads and kind of corporate espionage and stuff. It was really weird, but it was kind of like that! Only instead of attempting a corporate take over or whatever it was, I had to kill myself. Only I wasn't aware it was me I had to kill.” Taurus swallows a bit more gruel, and doesn't mention the fact that most people in the Zone are completely cut off from the outside world in terms of communication, and thus, have no idea what that movie was, and that any references to it was basically pointless.

“That uh... sounds really confusing.” Heir nodded cheerfully, taking a swig from a bottle of vodka.

“It was! Like, all I could remember was this voice telling me to 'Find Heir. Kill Heir.' and so I just kind of set off to find Heir and kill whoever he was! I mean, eventually, I find out _I_ was Heir, and that I had been sort of brainwashed, but I met all kinds of people and did all kinds of things before that happened! Y'know Sidorovich? Oh who am I kidding, who _doesn't_ know the old man? Well, he was the one who found me, after I kind of, fell off a truck? If that makes sense. I was all corpse-y after the brainwashing and stuff. He patched me up and to pay him back, I did some work for him!”Taurus, finished with his meal, placed the empty bowl on the ground and accepted the bottle of vodka from Heir, taking a swig for himself with only a mild grimace. “What kind of uh, work?” Heir grinned at him again. “Killing people mostly! Sometimes mutants, sometimes find this or retrieve that, but killing people was probably the majority of the work I did!” If Taurus hadn't already swallowed, he probably would've done a spit take at that. The cheerful and almost childishly innocent-seeming stalker's ability to say that with a completely unperturbed 'butter won't melt in my mouth' expression was... more than a little disturbing.

“There were sooo maaany bandits who were messing around with his orders and things, and you know Sidorovich, he's always 'graaaah, I have never failed to fill an ordeeeer' and off I'd go to deliver some ammunition to the bandits.” He gives the other male a private grin at his little joke, and Taurus decides that maybe he isn't drunk enough to deal with this yet. “Aaaand there was this one guy who was going around pretending to be the old man's sales rep, selling some really crappy stuff under the trusted brand of Sidorovich and so _he_ had to go as weeeell. Oh! Some former military dude was plotting to take over Cordon apparently, and Sidorovich couldn't you know, let someone muscle in on _his_ territory so I had to 'negotiate' with him as well! Or that religious guy, what was his name? Deeyodoor? Ah who cares; crazy guy was all 'Graaaaah, the Zone is full of sin, Artifacts are sin' and started _destroying_ them!” Taurus chugged half of the bottle, relishing in the burn. Heir was crazy and possibly a psychopath and if he was going to be murdered by a crazy psychopath, he'd rather be drunk at the time.

 

“Who does that? Artifacts are _awesome!_ I mean, have you ever seen a 'Firefly' at work? Once, Dave had got shot in the neck, and was lying there bleeding out and we were all freaking out, or at least I was, it's hard to tell with Rose, but he was just _dying,_ and then Jade just pulls out this glowing ball thing and tells me 'Get your 'Bubble' out fuckass, this thing's radioactive!' And she shoves it up against Dave's neck, and after like the longest minute of our lives, hell, it probably wasn't even a minute, Dave just gets up like nothing was wrong and asks for his sunglasses! I was just all 'Dude, you just got shot in the neck!' and he just _shrugged_!”

Heir paused in his story, as Taurus swayed on his chair. “... Dude, are you alright?” Taurus just giggled, flopping off his seat. Frowning, Heir walked over and picked up the bottle. It was empty. Taurus rolled over slightly, shifting his head side to side. “... I'm going to take you inside and lay you down on a mattress or something. You've had waaaay too much too drink man.”

 

* * *

 

_The Bubble - a rare and highly valued artifact found within Chemical anomalies, the Bubble artifact is formed out of several hollow organic compounds. This artifact is prized for it's ability to emit a gaseous substance that can neutralise radioactive particles within the human body without causing harm to the body in the process and is highly sought after by scientists and stalkers alike._

 

* * *

 

“You have to be more careful next time, Topol. As your doctor, I prescribe bed rest for at least a day. This kind of wound isn't just going to go away overnight though, so do try to avoid anything overly strenuous.” Kanaya finished stitching the wound on the man's chest, who only nodded in a slightly sheepish fashion. “As for _you_ , Mace, what have I told you about staying away from radioactive objects?” The ecologist-stalker shrunk back slightly at her reprimanding stare, as she handed him a bright green, glowing artifact. “Here. Skin contact for a few hours and you should be right as rain.” She turned to face the last two stalkers, Snake and Spirit. “At least you two are keeping yourselves out of trouble.” She said primly, brushing herself off before glancing around.

“... Where are Pisces and Aquarius?” Topol began putting the top of his suit back on, shrugging slightly with a wince. “Not sure. They left a few hours ago, and we didn't ask where. Tyrant was shadowing them again, so it was probably relatively far away.” Virgo sighed, crossing her arms at the mention of the short mercenary. “Thank you Topol. Now go to sleep, or at least don't move too much.” She strode out of the small medbay, heading for the main laboratory, giving Novikov a cursory nod in greeting. Hermann and Ozersky were busy studying the Kolobok artifact that had been retrieved a good while ago.

 

“Hermann, may I inquire as to where Pisces and Aquarius have been sent?” Hermann looked up from the terminal, still jotting down some readings. “Miss Peixes and Mister Ampora? I asked them to see if there was any documentation on the experiments within the Jupiter Plant left behind by the Science teams. If you're worried, Tyrant is watching over them as well.” She frowned at that, crossing her arms again. She had made her distrust for the mercenarial sniper relatively clear from the very beginning of his employment with the Ecologist team, but ultimately Hermann had the final say. “I still do not understand what it is you see in him. Black and his men are bad enough... speaking of which, where have those damned cut throats gone off to?” Hermann adjusted his glasses, with a small smile.

“If you want to know why, ask him yourself when he returns. As for Black and his ilk... we aren't too sure. They just... left. They didn't answer any questions, or give any warning. I'm not entirely sure why we were told to hire them and frankly, I'm not too fond of it either. How is Team Iskra?” Virgo sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They're fine, now. Topol just needs some rest for the wound to heal, and I've lent Mace my 'Bubble' to handle his radiation sickness. Really now, that man... perhaps you should run a study based on his propensity to get radiation sickness. Who knows? Maybe he is somehow instinctively attracted to the damn things.” Hermann laughed slightly at that, as the hissing sound of the airlock alerted them to the field team's return.

 

“Speak of the devil, Peixes, Ampora... where is Tyrant?” The Scientist frowned in concern as he scanned the two – they appeared sweaty and tired and their watcher was missing. Eridan swallowed slightly, and handed over Tyrant's PDA. Hermann's expression switched immediately to a crestfallen look of sadness.

“... Ah. I... see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Images, STALKER Wiki.
> 
> Basically any image I use will come from the STALKER wiki, let's just say that now and leave it at that. If it isn't from there, I'll specify otherwise.


	5. How far goes the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nepeta returns, Tavros wakes up, Gamzee is angry, and actual plot development occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the beginnings of the actual plot. Yes, that's right, it exists.

The atmosphere in Yanov was one of quiet tension. After what had been dubbed 'The Flint Incident', there was a thick aura of disbelief and wariness on all sides. Nobody could really believe that Gamzee Makara, commonly referred to as 'Jester' by the Loners and other Freedomers had essentially torn a Stalker apart with his bare hands. Most people couldn't even fathom Makara taking another life let alone in such a brutal and gruesome fashion!

The deed, however terrifying to behold, had removed Duty's opportunity to attack Freedom with both a moral and strategical high-ground – Freedom had demonstrated that it did not and would not condone an attack on the Loners by it's own members, and had policed themselves as such. That Capricorn was apparently absolutely terrifying was only another detriment to any attempt to attack. But that there was no (legitimate) reason to attack Freedom did not meant everyone was not afraid of them – one of their calmest and most chilled out members had essentially displayed his proclivity for doing horrible things to people who pissed him off. They could hardly be blamed for being on edge and suspicious.

 

So when Nepeta 'Leo' Leijon burst through the doors, carrying a Chimera's heads on her shoulder, everyone immediately reached for their guns. “The Huntress has returned... why is efurryone looking at me like that?” One of the Exoskeleton guards let out a relieved sigh.

“ _Jesus, Huntress, don't do that! You scared the hell out of everyone..._ ” He muttered, returning to his post. Nepeta just cocked her head to the side, not truly understanding what she did wrong before shrugging, as everyone returned to their business, somewhat more relaxed than before.

She let out a squeal as her eyes landed on the short, ginger-haired Stalker grumbling next to a cackling Inquisitor and promptly pounced on him. “KARKITTY!”

Karkat gave her a light glare from his position under her as she straddled his chest with a bright grin. “Nepeta. Would you be so kind as to get off me?”

“Nope!” Karkat rolled his eyes with a small huff and resigned himself to his position under the hunter. “Can you at least hand me my drink?” Nepeta reached up to the table, grabbed the bottle of vodka and brought it down for Karkat, still grinning. “Here you go Karkitty!” The Chimera heads rolled about on her back and onto her front. “Nepeta... what the fuck is that?” He said quietly, accepting the bottle of alcohol. “Oh? That? It's the Chimera's heads! I got it so I could prove to Trapper that it's dead!”

“Uh-huh. Next question – why is it hanging right in front of my face?” He muttered, feeling just a tiny bit queasy as he stared into the lifeless eyes of what was once a highly terrifying monster. “... Oh! Um... sorry... heheh...” Sheepishly, she got off of him, and helped him up. He brushed himself off, giving her a small smile. “It's fine, just... just don't wave that thing around me okay?” He turned to his can of 'Tourist's Breakfast', before letting out another sigh. He wasn't feeling hungry anymore. “... Do you want it? You must be hungry after the hunt.” He muttered quietly, pushing it in Nepeta's direction. She gave him a quizzical look, but he just jerked his head at her, a non verbal 'Well?'. “Thanks Karkitty~!” With that, she dove into the bland and frankly kind of unpalatable food with gusto.

 

Karkat watched her, slightly bemused at the frenzied way of eating. Nepeta was possibly the only person who seemed to actively enjoy the canned food but that was possibly because she was highly active (even for a Stalker) and her body naturally craved all the nutrients the ration was packed with. Wiping her mouth with the back of her glove, she turned to face Karkat again. “Is Equius in? We didn't get to talk fur a while last time...” Karkat rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest lightly. “Where else would he be, Nepeta? He's too busy constantly trying to one-up Sollux in their stupid cock measuring contest of who can be a bigger douchecanoe than the other...” Nepeta gave him a reprimanding glare. “Karkitty! Don't be mean to Equius. He can't help it.”

The ginger-haired stalker huffed lightly but relented. “I'm sorry your best friend is a douchecanoe... Ow! Okay, I'm sorry I _called_ him a douchecanoe.” He rubbed his shoulder where Nepeta had given him a relatively light punch gingerly, “And before you ask, no, they haven't abandoned all pretense and started fucking already.” Nepeta let out an aww at that, before grinning to herself.

“Well, they will eventually!” She said brightly, before adjusting the chimera heads on her back. “I better go see Trapper! Talk to you later, Karkitty!” She left for the basement with a bounce in her step, as Karkat grumbled slightly to himself about crazy Cat-girls.

 

* * *

 

“Uh, if it ain't pryin' too much... wwhat wwas Tyrant's deal and the PDA?” Eridan broke the tense silence, causing Hermann to sigh slightly, removing his glasses to clean them. “Well... I suppose there's no harm in telling you. Tyrant would probably be amused at this – dramatic revelations. As you are aware, Tyrant came to us offering his services about half a year ago – as Black and his men refused to protect the field teams whilst they worked, we decided it was a necessary expense. We weren't able to get any research done for fear of danger, and if we didn't get any research done, than ultimately, what was the point of coming here? So we hired him to watch over the field teams. As part of his contract, he wanted several things – half of all his pay was to be sent to a separate bank account outside of the Zone, one tenth of his pay would go to him, and the remainder would be stashed away by us.”

“Whose bank account was it? Did he tell you? If... if it's not too much to ask.” Kanaya finished quietly, somewhat engrossed. Hermann nodded. “It belonged to his sister.” There was a collective wince and Feferi covered her mouth. “When... when he died, the saved amount was to be transferred to her account in full, and if possible, his PDA would be given to her; failing that, a message containing the details of his... adventures in the Zone, and his untimely demise.” He sighed, plugging the PDA into his terminal, before pressing a few buttons. “Let me see... ah. Here. This is the file he specifically wanted to send to his sister.” He double clicked on it. A screen flickered slightly.

_Tyrant, pale and stonefaced sat on a small log. “Dearest Sister. If you are watching this than I am dead. Save your tears for a better man.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before letting out a melancholic chuckle, shaking his head. “You... you must be so worried. It's been years since we last saw each other, and all of a sudden you get a video telling you I'm dead? I've been a terrible brother.” He sighed again, looking up at the night sky. “I'd like to answer all your questions but really, I don't know what I can say. I have seen the impossible made reality, and had all I thought I knew of the world thrown out the window. The world inside... this place is so much stranger and fantastical. But I am digressing, forgive me. By now you will almost definitely have noticed the money – I am unsure if they informed you, but yes, that was me.” He paused, giving the camera a small smile. “With my death you will receive the other half that has been building up. Hopefully that will be enough for you to live comfortably.” He smiled again, a little wider. “I'm sorry for being such a worry. If my body has been retrieved, please have it buried in the family plot.”_

There was a silence as they absorbed the information, as Hermann scanned over the file list. “Hmmm... there's a new audio file. This one was... made today.” He said quietly, before playing it.

“ _... kff... hff... shit... I'm... I'm really sorry... kghff... I... really... wanted to see... you smile... I thought maybe... if... when... when I left... you'd smile... again...? Geh... 'm sorry... sis...”_ The audio cut out at that point and everyone stood there silently. Coughing into his hand, Eridan, held out the documents they had retrieved. “Uh... not that wwasn't depressin' and serious and all, but... the documents are here and I hope they're wworth it.” Hermann accepted them somewhat sombrely, flipping through them.

 

“... Oh my. This is... incredible.” They gathered around to peer at the documents. Kanaya blinked dully, straightening her back. “Forgive me for not possessing the proper knowledge but... what exactly are we looking at?” She said blandly, crossing her arms across her chest. Eridan slouched back with her. “Whaaaale, it's documenting a series of experiments for a weapon based on accelerating a projectile via manipulation of magnetic fields.” Feferi scratched her chin glancing over the pages. Hermann nodded in agreement, flipping over a page. “But... according to this the Experiment was deemed a failure. All weapon tests were successful but they could not shrink it down to a man-portable size due to a lack of sufficient power source.” Hermann said, examining the details closely.

“Wwait, so they were makin' some sort of super wweapon is wwhat you're sayin'?” Eridan muttered, eyes wide with trepidation. “I guess that wwould explain wwhy those merc's wwere tryin' to stop us...” Hermann's eyes widened slightly, snapping to face the other male. “Mercenaries...? You were attacked by Mercenaries?” At Feferi and Eridan's nod, he paled slightly.

“I... oh dear. You don't think...?” Ozersky muttered, glancing at Hermann.

“If... if it _was_ them, why were we ordered to hire them?” Hermann replied quietly, gazing down at the folder. “Wait... you... you aren't sea-riously suggesting that it was Black's team?” Feferi said suddenly, glancing between Ozersky and Hermann. “Well... they _did_ leave almost immediately after you did... it's... well, it doesn't look good.”

“Wwait... so... let me get this straight... Black and his men wwere forced on us so they could make sure wwe nevver got these documents... about a super wweapon?” Kanaya uncrossed her arms, placing them at her hips.

“Well... to be perfectly honest that doesn't sound too far fetched. Black's team never actually helped with the Research.” She said quietly, gazing at the folder.

“What's worrying is whoever hired them. If they were indeed hired to prevent us from retrieving anything about this... Item 62, then I have little doubt when it becomes clear they have failed, we will be in greater danger. We need to replace Black and his men.” Hermann nodded at that with another sigh. “The greatest question then, is 'Who?'”

 

* * *

 

_Blind Dogs - how they evolved to this state is unknown, but Blind Dogs are perhaps better suited and adapted to the perils of the Zone then their sighted cousins. Although they no longer possess the sense of sight, they do possess an extremely powerful sense of smell and hearing, and are capable of easily navigating anomalous fields and radioactive areas with little difficulty. Blind dogs, like their angrier cousins the Pseudodogs, hunt in packs, and can easily spell death for the unprepared._

 

* * *

 

 

The small room was silent save for the crackling of a small, smokeless fire and the gentle snoring of a blue-clad figure. Tavros rolled onto his side, adjusting himself sleepily as his eyes slipped open slightly. Laying only inches away from his face, was the quietly snoozing figure of Heir, nostrils flaring only slightly as he breathed. Somewhat startled, Taurus scrabbled away, causing the blanket covering both of them to shift and drop from his form. They were both clothed, thankfully – then again, people rarely removed their suits unless they really had to.

Heir rolled over again, cracking his eyes open with a yawn. “... g'mornin'...” He muttered, rising up and stretching. Tavros's legs creaked slightly as he stood up, blushing only slightly. “Uh... good morning... to you too...” Heir gave him a sleepy grin, adjusted his suit slightly, and disbarred the door. He opened it to the small area Tavros remembered finding him in, the remains of their meal and seating arrangements still there from the night before. “Aaahhhh... a lovely morning in the Zone, don't you think?” He turned to give him another grin, stretching as he did so. “I think it's going to be a... PSEUDODOG!” He scrabbled away from the door immediately, eyes darting for where he had left his shotgun – by the mattresses. “QUICK PASS ME THE GUN!”

“Wait, it's, uh, alright!” Heir gave him the most painstaking look he had ever seen.

“HOW IS THIS ALRIGHT?!” He half screeched, diving for his shotgun. When he rolled over to fill the savage beast full of buckshot, it was to the sight of it sitting patiently by the door, tongue lolling out of it's mouth and tail wagging. It was almost like a normal dog, and not a vicious monster. Tavros's eyes flashed bronze and the dog padded softly up to him, before sitting at his feet.

“Okay, colour me completely and utterly confused.” Heir said blankly, but nonetheless lowering his shotgun. “It's... uh, complicated. And hard, to explain. I don't, really know, all the details, myself? But, what I do know, is that, uh, it's, fairly weird.” Heir didn't take his eyes off it, and slowly edged up to the back wall. “Did you pull a thorn from it's paw or something or are you just naturally a friend to all living things?” Tavros chuckled slightly at that, bending down to pet the pseudodog.

“Not naturally, I guess? I am, though, kind of. A friend to, uh, all living things, that is.” He scratched behind it's ears, slipping onto the ground as he did so to make it easier. The pseudodog climbed into his lap, still wagging it's tail. “Okay, this is half adorable and half really fucking weird. Is... is this some sort of weird superpower? Is it an artifact?” Tavros frowned slightly, before shrugging.

 

“Superpower? I guess, that's the best, uh, way to classify it.” Heir blinked.

“So you are, honest to god, the Heart Planeteer?” Tavros nodded. “That... is... so... COOL!” Heir began gushing over him, fear of the Pseudodog forgotten. “Does it work on all mutants? How'd you get that power? What does it feel like?” Tavros shrunk back slightly as the Pseudodog let out a whining sound. “Uh... most of them. The animals, at least. It, feels uh, weird? It's... like stretching your, uh, mind.” He sighed, rolling his neck. “As for, how I got it... it's, uh, a long story...” Heir grinned up at him, sitting cross-legged before him like a child listening to an elder.

“Well... it uh, began with a Controller. A... friend, and I, were exploring, the area, and we came across, a cave, with a controller, in it. My friend... she, uh, abandoned me. Which, really, wasn't a very, friendly thing, to do. But, that's, not the, point. The Controller, well, controlled me. Off a, well, cliff.” He looked down, still stroking the Pseudodog. “It, must have been, a few uh, days, just, lying there. My, legs were, basically, shattered, at the bottom, of this, cliff and... I just, thought that, that was the end, you know? Here lies, Tavros, Nitram, he achieved, nothing.” He let out a sigh, before smiling slightly. “An emission, rolled in. I figured, that was, it. I uh, blacked out, mid way, certain that'd, I'd never wake up... but I did. Some scouts, from, our uh, group, found me, and took me, back. They, ran some tests, and, I was healthy. Healthier than before, even. Except... for the legs.” Heir stared up at him with a mixture of awe and wonder. Tavros scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“I only uh, realised, about the power, thing, later. My, head felt really, weird?” He frowned slightly, gesticulating as he tried to find the words. “It was... uh, like... it was, larger? And... I had to stretch? I guess? It's, hard to, explain.” He paused slightly to pat the pseudodog gently. “I, was sitting, at the bar, and, tried to, stretch my mind?” He chuckled lightly. “Next thing, I uh, knew, I was, a crow, flying around. After that, I just, practiced, whenever I could.”

 

“Man, that is so cool! I wish I had an awesome super power like,” He was cut off from a small burst of static issued from his radio. “ _John, are you there?_ ” He gave the other male an apologetic smile, before grabbing his radio. “Yeah, I'm here Rose. What's up?”

“ _I require a favour._ ”

“Anything for the snarkiest of broads!” Tavros stifled a laugh at that.

“ _Quite. My brother and your cousin were scouting the Jupiter Plant, specifically to investigate the crashed military helicopter – very interesting. They found some lovely documents but were forced to withdraw under threat of impending emission._ ”

“And you want me to go see if there's more?” His tone was long-suffering and exasperated, at odds with his facial expression of mild amusement.

“ _I know there's more – it's specifically referenced in the documents themselves. Unfortunately, each document references another document which references another document and none of the ones I currently possess explain what 'Item 62' is, where it is, and why it's so important. Indulge my curiousity._ ”

“Isn't that what we always do?” John pulled a wry face, but was smiling nonetheless.

“ _All the more reason to do it now._ _Thank you in advance, John._ ”

“Hey! I didn't say... damn it.” He rolled his eyes and shoulders simultaneously, giving Tavros a sly grin.

 

“Saaay... up for a bit of exploration?”

 

* * *

 

Vriska felt like shooting someone. Whilst many would proclaim that violence is never the answer, the Mercenarial Stalker firmly believed that those people simply weren't asking the right questions. The question 'How do I work out this giant ball of frustration and betrayal and bad moods?' is most certainly answered by 'Violence'. RPG on her back, and a submachine gun in her hands, she approached an area she knew was usually occupied with bandits.

Nobody cared about Bandits, not even other Bandits.

The sound of gunfire and panicked shouts and screams were what greeted her, instead of wary figures in trenchcoats and skimasks. Frowning to herself, she pulled out a pair of binoculars and attempted to get a closer look. She could see a bandit, clad in a black trenchcoat, twisting this way and that, back up against a shipping container. Movement above him drew her attention, and she almost gasped in surprise. The lanky figure, lightly armoured in the colours of Freedom, was one she recognised - Capricorn. A large hand reached down, grabbing the bandit by the face, as it's twin twisted the shotgun out of the bandits hands, throwing it away carelessly. His victim now in his grasp, he crushed the poor man's head against the container and Vriska could almost hear the sickening crunch.

 

The Clown-stalker leapt from his position as one Trenchcoat's friends fired on where he used to stand, tumbling through the air like a murderous acrobat. Vriska sprinted forward, a low growl building in her throat. _That stupid fucking clown was going to kill everyone and then there'd be nobody for her to kill!_

When she finally entered the bandit 'fortress', Capricorn was beating a bloodied figure with the butt of an assault rifle. A bandit clambered on to a container, shotgun in hand and prepared to shout some stupid insult before opening fire on the unsuspecting clown. Vriska simply fired a small burst from her SMG into his chest, causing him to topple back. Gamzee's head snapped to face her, blood dripping down his face that most likely did not belong to him. She didn't acknowledge his presence, and simply ignored him in favour of pushing forward. He paid her the same courtesy, turning back to the gurgling figure in his hands. She didn't know why the calmest and most relaxed member of Zodiac was rampaging like an angry chimera and frankly, she didn't care.

She emptied another burst of bullets into a surprised pair of bandits, feeling only marginally better as they hit the ground. When she ran out of bullets she tossed it away frustratedly, abandoning it and her RPG launcher in favour of a sawn off she picked up off a dead bandit. Gamzee stalked up beside her, hunched shoulders and swinging bloody hands gave the impression of a serial killer – it probably wasn't far off. Side by side, an unlikely duo, they entered the main warehouse.

 

Six bandits stood before them, all training assault rifles on them. A seventh emerged from a back room, a homemade cigarette clenched in between her teeth. She said something in a vaguely asiatic language neither Vriska nor Gamzee could place. She gave them a leering grin, and let the smoke drift out of her mouth before saying something else in the same language. “Spidersis...” Gamzee said quietly, turning to look at her through the corner of his eyes. “You all up AND UNDERSTANDING THIS BITCH?” She only rolled her eyes at that.

“Puh-leaaaaaaaase! Does it look like I understand...” She gestured wildly, “... whatever she speaks?” The bandit leader coughed, getting their attention.

“You... fuck... wit'... wrong... bandit.” She said in halting English, giving them another leering grin. Vriska glanced at Gamzee, a frown marring her face. “I don't know about you, but I think that was a challenge.” Gamzee grinned, all teeth and fangs, his eyes holding a glint that could only be described as insane.

“Motherfucking SHIT YEAH spidersis.” Vriska glanced to the side – a large, crane on rails provided decent cover. In a single fluid moment she produced a grenade and threw it at the bandits, diving behind cover in tandem with the Clown Stalker. The Bandits gave startled cries and darted for cover with the exception of their leader, who simply snarled. Vriska pulled out a pair of small pistols, as she heard the angry voice of the leader. Leaning out from behind her cover, Vriska fired on the bandits, striking one as he scrabbled for cover. Gamzee pulled a pistol from his jacket and began to open fire as well. The Bandit Leader calmly, brazenly, walked over to the grenade and picked it up despite her crews panicked protests. “Pin still in! IDIOT!” She shouted, berating her followers in her native tongue before turning to return the grenade. A bullet grazed her wrist and caused her to drop it with a hiss.

 

Gamzee tumbled out of cover like the murderous clown he was, tackling the leader before she could get away. A bandit tried to protect her but Vriska fired a few rounds into his skull. Capricorn snarled and the presumably asian bandit leader snarled right back, as the two rolled along the ground, viciously attempting to kill each the other. The bandits no longer tried to shoot Gamzee for fear of shooting their leader, for whom they apparently had a modicum of respect or at least affection for, which left Vriska as their sole target – which she was perfectly okay with. “Come get some, ya pansy assed loooooooosers!” She grinned wildly, as she reloaded, before firing another few rounds. A burst of buckshot struck the metal directly next to her, and she only grinned harder. This is what she lived for. Fighting, killing, _survival_. Entering battle against groups of other people, and walking out alive. She cackled madly, watching the blood spurt out of several new holes in one of the bandits as he slumped over the crates he was using as cover. One of the bandits was reloading his carbine, so she fired a bevy of rounds into him, splaying him out against the ground. Another burst of buckshot grazed her cheek only slightly, and her grin only widened.

One of the bandits levelled his rifle with her head, and prepared to open fire when a large hand gripped his wrist, twisting it with a snap. “Hey there MOTHERFUCKER.” The remaining two twisted to face the bloodied Clown, having forgotten about him in favour of the more obvious threat – one they were currently ignoring. No longer under fire, she quickly took aim and fired a two shots each into the bandit's skulls, watching them fall with grim satisfaction. “Boom baby!” She turned to Gamzee... and promptly turned away. “Okay, that's just fucking weird.” The Clown was painting strangle little figures using the dead bandit's blood, completely entranced in his work. Spider simply left him there, to see what the leader had hidden away in the backroom.

 

A single stalker was tied up, propped up against the wall, glancing up at her blearily. “Who are you?” He lisped, his mop of black hair obscuring most of his face like a fuzzy dandelion.

“Call me Spider. And you are?”

“Mituna... Bumblebee... FFFFF KITH MY WATHTE CHUTE YOU FUCKING CUNTTH...” Vriska blinked at the sudden profanity, and the writhing almost twitching movements. 'Bumblebee' paused, hanging limply in his bonds. “Thorry...”

“Jeez, you're a piece of work.” She muttered, cutting his bonds with a combat knife.

“Thankth... can you take me back to Yanov?” He gave her a pleading look and she sighed.

“Later. I wanna loot this place first.”

 

* * *

 

_Firefly - a highly prized chemical artifact, capable of accelerating healing in humans due to unknown reasons. This artifact manifests in only the very strongest and deadliest chemical-based anomalies, and is one of the most sought after artifacts within the Zone for it's overwhelming healing powers; it is rumoured to be capable of bringing a man back from the brink of death in mere seconds._

 

* * *

 

“Good heavens Nepeta! What on earth happened to you? Your coat is positively ruined!” Nepeta gave Equius a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of her head. “Um... well... there were some bandits...” Equius gave her a long-suffering stare, before sighing.

“Well, Maryam is currently out on business for the Ecologists.” He rummaged around in his workshop, before giving a small 'Ah-hah!'. He pulled out a long, olive trenchcoat seemingly identical to the last one and handed it to Nepeta. “I've lined this one with a kevlar weave, and treated it with several compounds such as 'Horizon', so it should protect you better.” He straightened his back. “I also hand-embroidered the Leo insignia onto your breast so everyone can identify you easier.” Nepeta caught him in a flying tackle hug, arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I CAN'T PAWSITIVELY THANK YOU ENOUGH EQUIUS!”

“Perhaps... you can begin... by letting go... before I... asphyxiate?” He wheezed around her grip, gently placing his hands on her back. “... Oh... heheh... sorry... But really, thanks a lot Equius!” She hugged the trenchcoat to her chest, squealing with joy.

 

“Oh, um... it was nothing really.” He said bashfully, pushing his cracked sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. “ _Hey, thith ith Gemini, bringing you the latetht and greatetht newth in the Thone! At leatht, I would, if there were any new developmenth. Ath it ith, there ith nothing new to report, tho, let'th cut thtraight to the latetht track from DJ D-Thtri, 'Anguith of the Creator'._ ” Equius smirked to himself, pulling out a small remote. “Um... Equius? What are you doing?” Nepeta said, cocking her head to the said as the strong stalker gave her a small private smile. “Nothing. I merely find being subjected to Gemini's taste, or lack thereof, in music to simply be as unbearable as listening to the damned fool speak.” As the song began, Equius pressed a small blue button, Gemini's broadcast immediately cutting out to the sound of Shostakovich's String Quartet No. 7. “Ah. Much better, don't you think?” He chuckled lightly to himself, as stalkers began glancing at each other before shrugging.

An angry Gemini stormed up from his broadcasting room, bursting into Equius's workshop with a roar of “ _EQ!_ ” He seethed, stomping up to the strong man, unaware of or just ignoring Nepeta's presence. “What. The. _Fuck._ Did you do to my broadcatht you thweaty douchebag?” Equius's smug aura did not dwindle in the slightest but he put on an innocent air nonetheless. “Was that _your_ broadcast, Gemini? Oh my, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't realise it was yours because of your atrocious lisp,”

“DON'T BRING MY LITHP INTO THITH!” Nepeta edged her way to the doorway, where Karkat was chewing on a piece of bread. “Do you think they'll finally fuck this time?” He said offhandedly, observing the two as they argued fiercely. “Um... maybe? I hope they at least kiss. Efurryone knows they're basically made fur each other anyway and I'd like to see Equius happy!” The two technician stalkers were leaning in fairly close as they angrily exchanged words.

 

“ _EXCUSE ME FOR HAVING SOME CULTURE YOU DRUG ADDLED SWINE!_ ”

“ _YOUR EXTHCUTHED FOR BEING AN OUT OF DATE COCKTHUCKER, GET WITH THE TIMETH!_ ”

“Jeez, they're really going at it.” Karkat muttered between a mouthful of bread. “Ten bucks says they finally kiss.” Before Nepeta could reply, Sollux gripped Equius by the collar and smashed their lips together. “Okay, _now_ they're going at it... right, I'm going to go drink a whole bottle of vodka and forget I ever saw this. Want to join me, Nepeta?” Nepeta glanced at the now sloppily making out stalkers before edging out of the doorway, somewhat embarassed.

 

* * *

 

A slender asian woman in an eldritch green cheongsam fanned herself slightly, an amused expression on her face as she stared at the camera attached to her laptop. “Hello? Lord English? Have disappointing news for you.” She said, her tone matching her expression.

“ _ **SPIT IT OUT THEN, GIRL**_ _._ ” The figure she was speaking to, 'Lord English', was obscured by shadows, a mere silhouette on her screen but his deep gravelly voice gave off the impression that crunching stone had somehow formed coherent sentences.

“Black's team have failed to report after their attempt to stop Ecologists from retrieving documents from Jupiter. Scout report they have died. Very sad. We hold funeral later, but nobody attend.” She said, her amused expression and tone never faltering in the slightest. A second screen came to life next to the first, this time displaying a brightly lit, stark white room. A man in a bright white suit and tie with an eldritch green undershirt folded his arms across his desk, face hidden behind a large, spherical smooth white helmet. “ _Black's failure has come to the surprise of an impressive zero people, my dear. The very best the Zone has to offer do not sell themselves so easily, Handmaid._ ” The Handmaid giggled demurely, spreading her fan out wider to obscure the bottom half of her face in an almost stereotypically mysterious way. Being mysterious and vague was half the reason she had a fan to begin with.

 

“Doctah Scratch, always planning so far ahead. The documents were not found at the site, and Black's PDA was missing. Did you plan for that too?” Scratch hmm'd behind his helmet.

“ _Ah. So the metaphorical 'jig' is up then. A pity. I do so enjoy these little games we play._ ”

“ _ **ENOUGH. SCRATCH, HOW DO YOU PLAN TO RECTIFY THIS SITUATION?**_ ” The Cueball-headed man simply stroked the area his chin would be.

“ _My dear, be a sweetheart and confirm who has retrieved Black's PDA? If the Scientist's have obtained the information, it may make things slightly more difficult. If some random loner has it, then we may have to prepare for just about anything._ ” The Handmaid smiled coolly, fanning herself.

“Find the PDA and eliminate whoever holds it?” Scratch chuckled genially.

“ _Heaven's no. What's a Game without any players, my dear?_ _I'm sending Crowbar, Eggs and Biscuits. The poor boys have been all antsy, with nothing to do._ _Be a dear, and Set the Table would you?_ ” The Handmaid laughed gently, closing her fan with a snap.

“ _ **IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?**_ ”

“No, Lord English.”

“ _I regret to inform you that I have nothing to report myself._ ”

“ _ **CARRY ON AS BEFORE THEN.**_ ” The chat window closed.

 

An Exoskeleton guard entered the room, immediately standing at attention. “ _Our orders ma'am?_ ”

“Track down Black's PDA. Do not retrieve from it's new owner. Otherwise, carry on as before.” He gave her a smart salute.

“ _Yes ma'am._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read the side-stories to this, you should do so! [/shameless promotion of self]
> 
> But yes, first confirmed concupiscent pairing, and possibly the first one I actually conceived of for this story (it just worked so well given the circumstances).


	6. Would you like to play a Game?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dave attempts an Ambush, Tavros and John discover some interesting documents, Vriska does work for the Science team and arranges for new guards, and Rose has a lovely discussion with Scratch over 'Chess'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More plot developments! Weeee! Also, I'm sorry this took a while. Bit of a writer's block, but I managed to smash it just recently.
> 
> Also more ship tease.

“Yo, Barkeep, drop me a Martini, and you can bet your ass I want it shaken not stirred.” The aging male gave the stonefaced stalker a glare but nonetheless began preparing his drink. Dave 'Knight' Strider wasn't a big fan of the 100 Rads Bar, but it was the most popular area for Stalkers from nearly all walks of life with the exception of perhaps Bandits and Freedomers – Duty kept the peace here, and they ran a tight ship.

 

“What ever happened to your fools quest to reach the Centre? Fail miserably?” Barkeep was surly and angry and Dave liked that about him. He was like a cranky uncle to just about everyone.

“Dude, how could it fail? It had me in it, Dave fucking Strider, only the most badass Stalker in the Zone. We aced that shit, made it there and back. We would've got you a souvenir but there was no way we could get it through Customs.” Barkeep passed Knight the Martini who nodded in mild gratitude. “I suppose you want me to add it to your tab?”

“Be a sweetie, would you?” The albino stalker sipped his Martini in a manner he would proclaim as ironic, letting his shade-protected eyes sweep across the bar, scanning it's patrons.

“So you made it to the Centre, and then you came back.” Barkeep groused, wiping down his bar. “Why not stay? Wasn't all it cracked up to be?” Knight shrugged slightly, taking another sip.

“It was good, don't get me wrong – artifacts out the wazoo, shit so many artifacts, we didn't have enough arms to carry all those artifacts. Should've brought a wheelbarrow, maybe a truck. Move over bitches, the Court's coming through. But it wasn't all treasure and fun, you know? Shit, the entire place is crawling with things that want to kill you, and some things that don't want to kill you but probably will anyway, just accidentally, 'Whoops, sorry, didn't see you there', says the Zombie with an RPG as he blows away your legs.” He drained the rest of his glass and Barkeep refilled it silently. “It's just nice to be somewhere where things are only trying to kill you a little of the time and not all the time.” His hidden gaze was trained on a small male, no taller than five feet, with cropped black hair. The small man was fidgeting lightly at a table, checking his PDA intermittently, glancing around, presumably waiting for a person.

Dave glanced at his PDA screen, thumbing the keypad until he reached the message screen. _Tail the courier, and if possible, intercept the package. - Seer_. Frowning only just slightly, he drained his glass a second time, and watched as the smaller male checked his PDA one last time, letting out what looked like a relieved sigh, before leaving the 100 Rads Bar in a relatively unhurried manner. “Thanks for the drinks, Barkeep.” Dave muttered, leaving some small change on the bar. Barkeep only glanced up from where he was refilling someone else's glass, and gave him a small grunt of acknowledgement. “If you're still alive, come back some time.”

 

 _Elvis has left the building._ Typing the message one handedly, he kept his shade-protected eyes on the small man as he checked his own PDA. Looking around, the trenchcoat wearing stalker moved to a small dumpster, standing there in what passed for an alleyway with his hands shoved in his coat looking nervous. Dave thumbed his radio. “Psst. Strider to Harley, Strider to Harley, do you copy? Over.” He stage-whispered into the communications device, with only a hint of dramatic flair.

“ _I can hear you dumbass! What's up?_ ” He grinned to himself inwardly at the sound of her voice, a tinge of amusement hiding in his eyes. “You got a visual on this situation? It's going to get pretty hot down here, and when we start taking off all our clothes I'd hate it if you missed the show.”

“ _Of course I have a visual, jeez, Dave, give a girl some credit here._ _Just try and stay out of the line of fire this time?_ ”

“One time, Harley, it was one bloody time and I'll never hear the end of it.” He grumbled slightly, checking his carbine. “But I swear, if you so much as inch that bullet hose in my direction, I will go back in time to punch you after I die.” He paused slightly, as a behemoth of a man entered the alleyway from the other side, his large, patched trenchcoat only barely sufficing to cover his armoured frame. “Sweet baby jesus, what the hell did his parents feed him?” He muttered, no longer feeling as confident in his carbine. At the very least, Witch would be providing him with support fire with her ridiculously large machine gun.

 

He checked his PDA one last time. _Do not intercept unless the package is confirmed._ Well, that was alright then – hopefully this wouldn't turn out to be a literal case of David and Goliath and the package was not in fact the one they were after, and he wouldn't have to see what kind of firepower a guy who looked like he could bench press a Pseudogiant carried around. When the smaller male, positively tiny compared to his friend, produced a sleek black PDA, Dave winced slightly. Target confirmed. “Harley, do you have a clear shot at them?” He hissed into his radio, raising his carbine and preparing to advance. “ _Clear as day._ ” Advancing carefully up to the corner, he took a deep breath before whirling about.

“Okay big guy, little dude, let's make this nice and quick 'kay? Hand over the PDA and nobody has to get hurt.” He sincerely doubted they would do it, but there was no hope in trying. The giant man cuffed the smaller male on the back of his head. “Deuce, ya idiot! Yer weren't supposed ta be follow'd!” The small male shrunk back slightly, looking embarassed.

“Sorry Boxcars...” 'Deuce' replied, voice light and almost child-like compared to the almost endlessly deep baritone of 'Boxcars'. “And yer know wot Droogs said ta do wit' anybody that learned a dis, right?”

“... No...? What'd he say?”

“YA SHOOT THE GITS!” Boxcars drew a shotgun from behind his back, and Deuce grinned with a chirpy 'Okay!', before drawing a pair of SMGs.

“Harley? Now would be a good time for some covering fire!”

 

* * *

 

'Bumblebee' had retreated for Yanov, promising to reward his rescuers once he was safe and with his friends, which left Capricorn and Scorpio to look over their handiwork. Vriska only let out an appreciative whistle. “Daaaaaaaamn... we really fucked them up, didn't we?” She grinned at the bloodstained Clown stalker, who only gave her a thousand yard stare. “... Right. Good hustle.” She muttered sarcastically, moving over to where the female bandit leader's body was lying. Her face was, perhaps oddly enough, untouched, but her neck had large hand shaped bruises. Patting down her pockets, she removed a key with a triumphant 'Ahah!'. Where there were keys, there were locks, and if you had a lock on something, chances are it was valuable. A little bit of further searching produced the dead stalker's PDA. Vriska frowned, attempting to plunder it's secrets, but the foreign language (Chinese? Japanese? She didn't know) made it difficult, before she sighed and just shoved into a pocket until it became useful. “Hey, Makara! See any lockers or anything?”

The sound of wrenching metal answered her and when she sprinted over, it was to the site of a large steel footlocker, it's lid torn off it's hinges. “... I had a key you know.” She muttered dryly, as the clown shrugged. “Faster this way, Spidersis.” He mumbled, looking down. It was mostly full of ammunition, but there was also a large pile of money and PDA's, presumably from murdered stalkers. “Jaaaaaaaackpoooooooot!” She shouted grinning, assessing the pile of cash.

“Hell yeah, Spidersis!” Gamzee shoved a large hand into the chest, before retrieving... a large, zip-locked bag stuffed with marijuana. “Shit yeah, gonna get my motherfucking miracle on tonight sis!” Vriska surreptitiously partitioned the money into two unequal piles and pocketed the larger amount for herself. “Want some, sis?”

“... I'm fine.” She said blandly, checking over the PDA's. “You want these?”

“Nah, 'm good...” He took his share of the money, either not noticing or caring about the inequality of the monetary division, before picking up the last thing in the locker – an engraved desert eagle.

“Aw hell, this thing is a motherfucking miracle...” He let it hang in his hand, turning it this way and that to examine it from multiple angles. Whilst he was busy examining his new pistol, Vriska took the liberty of pocketing the three artifacts present – a 'Wrenched', 'Meat Chunk' and 'Moonlight'.

“Y'know, for a drug-addled weirdass fucking clown, you aren't that bad, Makara.”  
“Aw, thanks sis. Always thought you were kind of all up and motherfucking cool m'self.” Vriska shouldered her pack, as Gamzee rose to his slight slouch.

“Where'd ya want to get our travel on to now?” He said, grinning stupidly. Glancing at her pack, Vriska adjusted it slightly and grinned back. “The Scientists might be able to read that bitch's PDA for me, so there first. Might even want the artifacts I got.”

“Shit yeah, Sciencebros!”

 

* * *

 

 

_Moonlight - An electrical based artifact, Moonlight is capable of resonating with psychic emissions. Stalkers have learned how to 'tune' this artifact so that it resonates in the opposite frequency in order to reduce or eliminate entirely, psychic emissions. This artifact is highly prized as a collector's item and as a research material due it's appealing appearance and resonance abilities._

 

* * *

 

The Jupiter Factory was an impressive complex of buildings... one of which was sporting a very large hole in it that Heir was fairly sure wasn't there last time. “Uh, Taurus, I dunno if you come by here often but... was there always a giant gaping hole in that building?” He muttered, gazing at it with his binoculars. “Looks like somebody set off a bomb or something... Ohhhh, let's go check it out!” He grabbed the other male by the hand and began dragging him off to the crumbling administrative building despite the others, admittedly rather weak, protests.

As they neared the entrance, they found a single body laying against one of the pillars – a stalker in a Mercenary Exoskeleton. Bits of shrapnel and fragmentation was embedded in his armour, and his legs didn't look very healthy. A trail of dried blood showed he had attempted to drag himself to safety, apparently incapable of walking... until someone had put a bullet in his head. “Man, what a way to go, huh? You escape death narrowly, and then Bam! Bullet between the eyes. Poor bastard.” Heir muttered, leaning down to examine him closer, removing his gasmask. “I, uh, guess, but he's, also, a mercenary. He, may have, had it coming, is uh, what I am trying, to say.” Heir straightened, and took a picture of the dead Merc with his PDA. “Mmm, true! I'll see if Rose has any information on him.” He reached for his radio.

“Rose? Are you in range?”

“ _I'm always in range, John._ ”

“Great! Also kind of creepy, but still great! I'm sending you a picture of a dead guy.”

“ _John, I am not a necrophiliac._ ” He blushed slightly, spluttering.

“Gross! No! Not like that, oh god no. We found him outside Jupiter.” Tavros shifted slightly, uncomfortable.

“ _We...?_ ” Heir rolled his eyes, grinning slightly.

“Yeah, me and Taurus.”

There was a small silence on the other end of the radio, before Rose spoke again. “ _The dead mercenary was code named 'Black'._ ” There was a tinge of _something_ to her voice that set John on edge.

“Is he important?” John stated, light and airy demeanour forgotten in face of potential seriousness.

“ _Very. From what information I have gathered, he and several others were hired by the same organisation – a group of people calling themselves 'The Felt'. He works under a man named 'Jackal'. There's two more groups located in Zaton. One lead by a man named 'Hatchet' , who I believe you already met, and another by a pair called 'Hook' and 'Ridge'._ ” John frowned, biting his lip slightly. Tavros tried not to pay too much attention for fear of being caught, but he was interested in what they were saying. “Do we know what they want?”

“ _Not yet. I have plans to find out though. Continue scouting._ ”

“Gotcha.” He gave an apologetic smile to Taurus again, before pocketing his radio. “Onwards with the adventure!” He said cheerfully, grabbing Taurus's hand again and pulling him along. They entered the main factory, glancing around at the abandoned interior. The building split off into two sections – a smaller, underground section, and a small assembly area. A chain-link gate prevented further access from the surface. “Down here.” Heir said cheerfully, dragging Taurus down the short stairs and under the assembly area. The lower section housed a large tank of unidentified substance (it was probably gas) and had a grill over a small pit of viscous liquid Taurus didn't fancy touching.

A small ladder led them up to the area just behind the chain-link gate, and a set of stairs. They pressed on, rising up to a set of walkways, before eventually reaching what looked like a control room, blinking lights and panels looking up at them, a plain white folder sitting atop them. “Bingo~!” Heir said grinning, picking the folder up and flicking through it.

“What's it uh, say?”

“Hmm... apparently, there's a Pripyat Underpass and the entrance is... in Jupiter. Item 62 was bundled up and shipped to Pripyat using the Underpass.”

“Wait. If there's, a secret passage, to Pripyat... wouldn't someone uh, have found it?” Heir looked up, grinning. “You're right! Maybe it's too secret though? Come on, let's keep looking.” Grinning happily, he began dragging an only slightly reluctant Taurus further along the rusted walkways, until they reached a small assembly area where the roof had been caved in, a large crashed helicopter sitting on a pile of rubble. A trio of Pseudodog's glanced over, and Taurus held out a hand, focusing and 'stretching' his mind to encompass theirs, slowly absorbing their psyche's to form a meta-consciousness. “Do you know your eyes glow whenever you do that?” Heir said cheerfully, observing as the Pseudodog's simply stood the side, sitting down calmly. “I uh, have been, told that, on occasion.” They both moved slowly towards the Helicopter, almost warily, glancing at it.

 

“Military, but then again, hard not to be.” Heir muttered, peering through an opened door. “Someone got out, which is more than I can say for most of the crew... poor bastards.” He clambered in, either not noticing or caring when Taurus remained outside. “Co-pilots missing... jeez, all the electronics are fried. What'd ya think happened to them?”

“An emission, maybe? Or, uh, maybe, an anomaly. Isn't the uh, air, full of them?” Heir made a noise of agreement, and clambered out. “Probably a field of Electro's or something. Makes you wonder what they wanted – military hasn't poked it's nose in past the Cordon much.” Taurus shrugged, letting Heir drag him further on. “You uh, mentioned, an item 62... is it, uh, important?” Heir glanced back, shrugging only slightly.

“Dunno, actually. Rose sent me to fetch information, I fetch information.” He paused, wrinkling his nose. “Guess that makes me a dog.” Taurus smiled at that, but they both stopped when they entered the main assembly air. Heir let out an appreciative whistle, jogging forward slightly to get a better look. It was a huge room, full of machinery and terminals , most of which was overturned or just broken – a small control room oversaw everything behind it's blaring orange warning light, and a large metal hatch sealed off a bottom section. “Ten bucks says that's the entrance to the Underpass.” Heir quipped, grinning to the stunned Taurus. He glanced over at a broken walkway, dragging Taurus over almost immediately. “Come on, boost me up.” The dusky-skinned male obliged, hooking his palms under the other stalkers feet and grunting only just as he pushed him, pointedly attempting not to stare at the other's ass. Now securely up on the walkway, Heir held out a hand and hauled the shorter stalker up. They casually entered the control room, mindful of a bit of overhanging Burnt Fuzz. A small blue folder waited for them. Flipping it open, Heir muttered under his breath as he read. “... Sealed... gas... closed-cycle... welded shut. Well... that explains why nobody else got in. Place is locked up tight. They filled it with some experimental toxic gas, and then sealed the doors shut.”

“But... it's still, a path, to Pripyat?” Taurus said, a tinge of hope in his voice. Every Stalker dreamed of reaching the Centre... even him. Heir scratched the back of his head.

“Well, sure, I guess, but you're gonna need closed-cycle respiration systems or you'll die. Plus, you'll need a technician or something to get the gates working.” Seeing the hopeful look in the other's face, he chuckled slightly and gave him the blue folder. “Here, it's got all the details about the sealing and stuff. Rose wouldn't care too much about that, she cares more about Item 62, whatever it is.” Heir glanced around, before grinning again. “I think that concludes the tour of Jupiter. Let's blow this popsicle stand.”

 

* * *

 

The hissing of the air lock made everyone in the bunker tense slightly, as their usual guards were gone. Eridan motioned for the other to stay still, drawing his assault rifle and slowly edging out to see who had entered. “Relaaaaaaaax Aquarius, it's just me and the clown.” Vriska grinned at him, as Gamzee just gave him a lazy wave. Both were splattered with blood, and Eridan would bet his ass it wasn't theirs. Having heard her voice, Kanaya stepped up behind Eridan, keeping her face neutral. She had wanted to apologise, but she knew she couldn't be perceived as 'desperate', as that would only cause more problems. Vriska stiffened only slightly, but ignored her. “What brings you here?” Kanaya said coolly, pointedly ignoring the way Gamzee stared at his bloodied fingers. Vriska patted her pockets. “Well, I was wondering if you eggheads were interested in some artifacts some lovely bandits 'donated' to me earlier.” She said cheerfully, grinning in a predatory manner.  
“That won't be necessary. Both Team Iskra and Garry handle all our artifact needs.” Vriska rolled her eyes slightly, before grinning anyway. “Whateeeeeeeever. I was also wondering if any of you could translate this for me.” She produced the former bandit leader's PDA and tossed it at Kanaya, who caught it calmly. Eridan glanced slightly at it as she fired it up, both frowning at the text.

“Ain't that Chinese or somethin'?” Eridan muttered, turning around slightly. “Hey, Fef, think your up for some translatin'?” The female scientist strode up, smiling brightly as she examined the PDA.

“Not Chinese, Eridan, Japanese! I'll have it all done in a small whale, just wait here.” She went back into the main lab, presumably to transcribe her translation for Vriska. The stalker in question simply crossed her arms and nodded genially at Novikov who returned it. Gamzee grinned stupidly and held out a hand, with a cry of 'Greybro!'.

 

“So, Ampora, what happened to that douchenozzle Black and the Midget sniper?” Eridan huffed slightly, and slumped. “Long story short, Black betrayed us, and Tyrant died in the firefight – he pulled a suicide bombing and took out Black and his men.” Vriska let out an appreciative whistle.

“Midget had balls. So what are eggheads doing for protection now?” Eridan shrugged.

“Happened just recently, so wwe ain't decided wwhat to do yet.”

“Intereeeeeeeesting...” Eridan frowned at her tone, crossing his arms irritably.

“Wwhat are you plannin' Vvris?”

“Don't call me that Ampora, and it just so happens, that I know a guy who knows a guy who has a bunch of guys who may be able to fill the gap.” Eridan glared at her slightly.

“Are they Merc's?” Vriska paused, before nodding slightly, watching the way Eridan tensed.

“Don't worry Ampora, they won't turn on you. I don't know who hired Black, but betrayal is a very serious thing in the Mercenary world and it isn't going to be left alone. Gimme a sec.” She pulled a small radio out, fiddling with the frequency. “John, this is Vriska. You open?”

“ _Oh hey Vriska! Always open for a friend! What's up?_ ” She could hear the sound of someone else in the background but ignored it. “Not much – you know the Scientists at Yanov?”

“ _Mmhmm._ ” The second, faint voice, seemed familiar but she ignored it still. It probably wasn't important. “Well, turns out their guards backstabbed them and now they're without protection. You still in contact with Hatchet?”

“ _Oh, man, that's really uncool! And yeah, sometimes I go over and we have drinks. They're pretty cool guys! You want to hook them up?_ ” Vriska grinned.

“Are they up to it?”

“ _Hell yeah they are, all they do is just sit around right now. They'd be glad to get some paying work! I'll talk to them later, and they should be over soon. Thanks for the info Vriska._ ”

“Any time, John.” She clicked her radio with a flourish, and grinned at Eridan. “Any other problems you want me to solve?”

Eridan crossed his arms again, baring his teeth at her. “Noww that you mention it, wwe do have one other thing on the agenda. Normally, Tyrant wwould handle it for us but...” He trailed off slightly, but shook his head. “Anywway, there's been some reports of psychic activity, and wwe wwanted to find the source. Wwe'd send Iskra Team but they ain't exactly got the best psychic protection, and if memory serves me correctly, you had some pretty good protection in that field.” Vriska rolled her eyes, glancing at him.

“How much?”

“Six grand.” She grinned.

“Deal.”

 

About an hour later, both of them were approaching one of the underground tunnels in a hillside, peering at the shambling forms from behind the train cart that blocked the entrance, it's doors thankfully open to grant them entrance. Eridan hefted his rifle, and patted it slightly. “Right, here's the deal. You go in, find out wwhat's causin' the emissions, and I make sure nothing bothers you.” Without waiting for her answer, he jumped through the opening, firing off a few accurate bursts of gunfire at the zombies, watching them hit the ground with satisfaction. Vriska huffed but followed him reluctantly, letting him clear the area before walking up to the area where the psi-emissions were emanating from. A small steel door greeted her, and she frowned when she discovered it was locked. A side passage (filled with Burnt Fuzz) opened up to reveal a field of Electro anomalies, and a patrolling Tesla. Carefully but confidently, she began to cross, clambering over a fallen shelf to avoid a particularly close call with the Tesla anomaly.

She gritted her teeth slightly, feeling the psychic emissions pound harder in her head, slowly leaking past her protection systems. She looked around, looking for the source, and saw a gyrating... insulator? Well, it was clearly anomalous. She took a step closer, and winced when the pounding got heavier. Eridan had provided her with a lead box in the event that the source could be transported back, so all she had to do was cover the insulator with it, and then contain it. She took another step. The pounding grew harder, and her eyes started slip shut.

“No... NO, NO! I'm... not falling... to some STUPID ASS... anomaly...” She slumped to her knees, weakly reaching out with the box. “I... can't... die here...” She whispered, falling to the ground. “I'm... too... awesome...” Her final words said, her eyes slipped shut, box slipping from her fingers.

 

* * *

 

 

_Compass - A legendary artifact, the Compass is fabled for it's ability to locate gaps in anomaly fields as well as it's overall ability to protect wielders from anomalies. Very few know how to handle it properly, the most famous being 'Forester', an old forest ranger who lives in the dangerous Red Forest and claims the Compass was given to him by 'the Zone itself'. This artifact can fetch a price of up to tens of thousands of dollars._

 

* * *

 

Rose 'Seer' Lalonde glanced up from where she was fiddling with a 'Compass', as Dave strode in, sitting on a fallen log. “Damn Rose, shit was motherfucking bananas. Hate to say it, but they got away with the goods – little dude had motherfucking bottomless magazines or something. Fuck Physics and logic, this is the Zone, I got magainzes that don't end, whose gonna mess with shorty now?” Rose glanced up at him, exuding only an amused air despite his failure.

“That's fine. The important thing is that both you and Jade are still in one piece. Were you at least able to ascertain their identities?” Dave nodded, removing his sunglasses to stare at the fire. Rose politely averted her eyes from his and gazed at the fire as well – she knew how little he enjoyed it when people looked at his eyes.

“Big guy called little dude 'Deuce' and little dude called big guy 'Boxcars'.” She hmmm'd at that, staring back down at the Compass in her hands. Dave put his sunglasses back on and frowned at her. “You aren't going to go into your weird trance thing again are you?”

“Without the PDA, I'm afraid I have little choice, Dave. Be a dear, and make sure nothing happens.” He grumbled slightly, but put a hand on his rifle. “Yeah, yeah.” Confirmation that protection was present, she began to fiddle with the Compass – tweaking this protrusion, twisting that one, pulling on others. Slowly, it began to hum slightly, hovering gently above her lap. Hands following a routine method, she slowly turned it this way and that to stroke this or that. It hummed louder, and she felt her mind twist and shift, and her eyes slid shut.

 

When they opened, it was to a wasteland. Although dusty, it was mainly devoid of features, save for the occasional dead tree or broken down car, and the ruined building that occupied the centre of her vision. It's roof and walls were crumbling or simply removed entirely, but despite it's damaged exterior, the interior was in perfect condition. Sitting up on her stone 'bed',she could see the soft felt green wallpaper, and the strange figure sitting at one end of a chess table – waiting for her. He was dressed in the purest white suit, with an eldritch green shirt underneath, and matching white bowtie. Where a head would be there was only a shapeless mass of vaguely spherical bone white flames and smoke. He had his elbows propped up against the marble chess table, fingers laced together just in front of where his nose would be. “ _Ah. Miss Lalonde. You have returned._ ” His strangely disembodied voice reached her ears just fine despite the distance, despite not sounding even the least bit raised. She glanced at herself, taking in her garments – orange and canary yellow hooded robes that covered her eyes. She smiled thinly, and approached. “You were waiting for me again, Doctor Scratch. One wouldn't be blamed for beginning to wonder if our little talks are all you have to look forward to.”

“ _One would not be incorrect in assuming so, either, Miss Lalonde. I spend my entire day here, unless my Employer calls for my... services. I have a lot of time on my hands, and not a lot to do with it._ ”

“You could always leave.” She said primly, taking her seat with a graceful air. He only chuckled, causing the smoke-flame mass to ripple slightly.

“ _Ah, but what would happen if you were to arrive without my presence to greet you? I am, after all, simply the best host._ _Shall we resume our little game?_ ” She glanced down at the Chess table, examining the figures. Doctor Scratch's side, the 'White' Chess pieces, were all garbed in the same eldritch green as his shirt, with the exception of the Queen and King. The Queen was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Doctor Scratch himself, and the King was simply shrouded in a shadowy veil she could not pierce. She glanced down at her own pieces.

She was the 'King', standing tall and proud in her strange flowing robes, her Compass in her hands. John stood next to her, wearing odd blue robes with a trailing hood and a strange hammer in his hands, taking on the role of one of her bishops. The Knight next to him was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Dave, wearing a bright red and maroon outfit she could only say resembled that of his title, the 'Knight'. Jade took her place as one of her rooks, wearing a short black dress and striped socks, carrying what could only be described as a giant rifle in her hands. A figure she had come to recognise as 'Cancer' stood on the other side, taking the other Knight's position, in his much darker rust brown knight outfit, flanked on both sides by figures she couldn't really recognise. The Rook was wearing an outfit she could only describe as 'ridiculous', it's bright purple and violet ensemble topped off with a strange pointed hood and a cod piece of all things. On Cancer's other side was the stalker she knew as 'Leo', wearing a small tunic and breeches in dark pink or burgundy, with a small eye mask. The Eight Pawns were again, mostly composed of (she could only assume were) stalkers she did not recognise wearing strange outfits, with the exception of both 'Taurus' and 'Virgo'. Taurus was wearing an outfit in the same colours of John, only with a tight hood and even tighter underwear (she refused to believe they were shorts). Virgo was dressed in a black dress, with two long flowing tendrils coming down from an equally long and flowing hood. The Queen, perhaps the most important piece, was not a figure she recognised. The outfit she was wearing was plain black with blue trim, and a pair of outrageous red boots – a pair of glimmering blue wings fluttered behind her, almost like a fairy, and she held a cobalt blade in her hand, and what appeared to be eight glimmering die in the other.

The pieces were arrayed across the board in their continual 'game'. She loathed to refer to it as that, as she had very little control over most of the pieces, with the exception of John, Jade and Dave. The others seemed to move on their own will. “You still haven't told me what the point of this is.” She nonetheless placed her hand on John's piece and calmly edged it just a bit further. She wasn't strictly obeying the rules of a 'Bishop' but, then again, the pieces never did. It was less 'Chess', and more 'Chaotic Battle'. Except there hadn't been any battling.

 

“ _Ah, but I did. The point is to see who wins, and who loses. Is that not the point of all games?_ ” Scratch's pieces did not move and he made no move to move them. Slowly, One of her pawns inched towards another, and she blinked as they began to kiss rather aggressively, the burlier of the two almost crushing the other against him. “And what is the aim of the game?” She said primly, deciding to ignore the two pawns and watch as John and Tavros inched a little bit closer to them.

“ _You say that as if you do not already know. You have already been moving towards it you know – the documents about Item 62._ ” His flame-smoke flared in amusement. She only pursed his lips, not bothering to ask how he knew. She scrutinised him, attempting to discern facts about Item 62 from his presence, and he only did the equivalent of smirking back. She could only lift a name from his mind. “Gauss Gun...” He gave her a small golf clap.

“ _Impressive. You're getting better. Yes, the Gauss Gun._ ”

“Why is it so important?” He chuckled at that.

“ _Why is anything important?_ ” She frowned, glancing at her pieces, and then to his still ones. Three of them were fidgeting.

“It's only important because someone wants it.” She said suddenly, watching as a pair of his pieces bickered.

“ _And who do you think wants it?_ ” Her eyes rested on the shadowy veil.

“Your employer.”

He gave her another golf clap. “ _Right and wrong, at the same time. He wants it, but that's not why it's important. He only wants it because somebody else wants it. My employer is selfish like that._ ” He chuckled slightly, the rippling smoke-flame formation mesmerising for but a few moments before settling. “ _Who wants it doesn't matter, only that someone does. The question is why._ ”

Rose folded her hands cross her lap, studying her pieces once more. The two pawns had proceeded to acts that she wasn't comfortable observing, and so she transferred her attention to John, who was babbling animatedly but silently to Taurus.

 

“The Gauss Gun is a weapon... but it never reached past the testing phase.” She had several documents attesting to this fact.

“ _Problems with the power source. Not compact and portable enough to be useful in a field situation._ ” Scratch said, tilting his smoke-flame. Rose looked up.

“Then the Zone happened.”

“ _Then the Zone happened._ ” He parroted, 'smiling' at her. Rose's eyes flashed gold.

“Artifacts changed the face of science and technology. The Gauss Gun is powered by Artifacts now. People want the schematics because with artifacts it's now a viable weapon.” A third, and only slightly less passive-aggressive golf clap was her reward.

“ _Very good Rose. Very good indeed._ ” He folded his hands again, this time on the table just in front of him. She frowned at him, tinge of suspicion colouring her expression. “But that raises the question of why you're doing all this – telling me all this. What do _you_ gain from helping someone who is ostentatiously your enemy?” He chuckled again.

“ _Didn't I tell you at the beginning Rose? What's a game without any players?_ ”

“Who ever said I was playing?” She countered, pointedly ignoring the two pawns who were now changing positions. 'Leo' was watching, embarassed but nonetheless not turning away whilst 'Cancer' facepalmed and generally didn't look like he wanted to see this. “ _Everyone is playing, Rose. Not everyone is aware of it, but they all rush along towards the same goal._ ” He, very calmly, very assuredly, took the three fidgeting pieces (one was wearing a purple hat, another an orange hat, and the last a red one) and moved them into the centre area, one she knew symbolised the rough Yanov-Jupiter area. “The Centre.” She said calmly, gazing down at the three pieces who grinned at each other with the exception of the Red-hat one, who simply cuffed them on the back of their heads. “If you're looking for the Wish Granter, I'm sorry to disappoint.” She said simply.

“ _Heavens no, Rose, have some faith in us. Come now, you've already had a brush with the Truth of all matters. The little Heir himself came face to face with it._ ” She frowned slightly.

“The C-Consciousness...? John killed it.”

“ _A bold move, and perhaps not the wisest. Only time can tell._ ” Rose frowned again, gazing straight into the shapeless shifting mass.

“What could you possibly want with the C-Consciousness?”

 

“ _Your asking the wrong questions again Rose, tsk, tsk. I taught you better._ ” She stared long and hard, attempting to lift the truth from him directly, but her attempts failed. She sighed, attempting to discern his motives, when a loud, cracking shockwave washed over them. “That didn't sound like an emission...” She said simply, watching as the pieces continued on as if nothing happened.

“ _Oh my. I'm terribly sorry, Rose, but it appears that this new development will have to cut our little talk short. Please don't think badly of me – let's continue this another time, hmmm?_ ” She stood up, glancing over to where she could see a pillar of light. “Wait, I'm not-”

“ _Until then Rose._ ” His white flame and smoke whirled about, flashing an eldritch green as it swallowed her up.

Her eyes snapped open and she jumped up with a start. That was... odd. Scratch had never forcefully made her leave – she wasn't even aware he was capable of doing that. She scratched her chin. She had more information though. At least there was that.

 

* * *

 

Doctor Scratch materialised out of the air with crackling green lightning, observing the pillar of light as it faded. Another stone bed laid before him, a wiry framed figure laying on it. The figure let out a groan, rubbing her face with a gloved hand, causing the black with cobalt trim outfit to rustle slightly. “ _Ah. Miss Serket. I was wondering when you would be joining us. Would you like to take a seat?_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who can figure out where this is going. I'd like to see some speculation in the comments (or you know, some comments).
> 
> Be sure to check out my reference post on Stalker suits at: http://tavkarezi.tumblr.com/post/42419692016/chernobylbound-reference-sheet-thing, or just look them up on the STALKER wiki. Either or, really.


	7. The Man With A Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vriska talks to a strange man, John reports back, Zodiac reunites, a plan is formed, and a Stalker returns.

Vriska's eyes slid open slowly, giving off a light groan. “What... happened?” She said blearily, rubbing her eyes. She remembered staring at that strange, gyrating insulator and feeling it's psychic emissions pound against her skull, but then everything went black. Realising what that meant, she scrabbled up, and began frantically looking around her. She had passed out due to psi-emissions... she was _dead_. Her surroundings consisted of an empty chasm surrounding what appeared to be a large stone pillar, the main feature being the plain stone bed she was apparently resting on. Movement caught her eye, and she turned to face the strange figure before her, his gloved white hands adjusting his equally white bowtie nonchalantly, the strange pure white flame and smoke that occupied the space where his head would be flickering lightly.

 

“ _Miss Serket._ ” It said pleasantly... _he_ said pleasantly. It sounded masculine enough, and it certainly didn't look like a woman... if whatever _it_ was had genders. “ _'He' will do fine._ ” The disembodied voice sounded amused, and Vriska snapped to 'him'. “ _The answer is yes._ ” She hadn't even said anything yet! She was going to ask him if... he could... read... her mind. The smoke-flame flared in amusement at her expression. She growled, low and deep in her throat, and glared hard at him. “Who the fuck are you?” She got the impression that if he had eyes, they would be twinkling with amusement. “ _Who am I? I am! Yet what I am, none cares or knows._ ” He said calmly, amusement in his flickering flames. “Stop fucking around and answer the question!” She snapped, pointing the sword she was only vaguely aware she possessed at him. “ _Was that not an answer? You asked who I was, and I said 'I am'._ ”

“The only thing that tells me is your a fucking jackass!” She sneered, sliding off the stone bed.

“ _Perhaps you should ask a better question._ ”

 

“Okay, fine. Where the fuck am I?” The fires flared again, and he folded his hands behind his back, the epitome of class.

“ _Where indeed? You are but simply 'Here'._ ” Okay, now the weird Flame-smoke-head-man was deliberately fucking with her and frankly, she wasn't taking his shit. She let out a screech of pure frustrated fury, and hurled the sword at him – he flashed green and yellow, arcs of eldritch green lightning sparking off him, and for a moment he appeared hollow. The sword embedded itself in the ground behind him, and he only seemed more amused for her efforts. She growled lowly, moving past him to grab her sword, as he turned to face her all the while. “And where,” She pulled it out smoothly, “the fuck is here?” She came to the perfectly rational conclusion that flame-smoke-man was fuelled entirely by smug amusement. “ _Here is Here of course. It is Here for if it was There it would not be Here at all, and instead would be There. As you are Here, and not There, one can only conclude that you are not There but Here._ ” Vriska let out a scream of pure annoyance, hands tangled in blonde hair and pulling sharply. “OH MY FUCKING GOD, JUST GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER!”

“ _No._ ” He shimmered again and appeared a few feet away from her, staring but not staring directly in her eyes. “ _You are asking the wrong questions. Until you learn how to ask the right ones, I shan't tell you a thing._ ”

“And what the fuck is the 'right' question supposed to be?” He 'smiled' at her.

“ _And at last, we're getting somewhere. What indeed, is the 'right' question?_ ” They stared at each other in silence. “You aren't going to tell me, are you.” She said with a deadpan expression. He chuckled slightly, the flames rippling as he did so. He shimmered and flashed, the flames swallowing them both, and when they cleared, they were standing in a ruined house, the green felt wallpaper surprisingly undamaged as the strange man took a seat behind a chess table. “ _If I told you, Vriska dear, then you would not learn._ ”

 

She huffed slightly gazing down at the pieces. “... What the fuck?” She recognised nearly all of them – the twelve members of Zodiac in strange ridiculous outfits, and there was who she assumed was the Fool's Court if Heir and Knight were any inclination. She watched as Sagittarius and Gemini snored loudly, draped over each other on the ground. Cancer and Leo were having a meal together, and Heir and Taurus were chatting animatedly. She wasn't aware John and Tavros knew each other. She took a seat warily, staring at the man in front of her. “How am I supposed to ask the right questions, if you won't tell me how?” She was tempted to ask why the chess board had pieces that looked like her and her friends, but she doubted he would actually answer her. “ _Did anyone ever teach you how to walk, Vriska?_ ” He said smoothly, clicking his fingers. A pair of tea cups sitting daintily on saucers appeared before them, a matching airborne teapot pouring strong-smelling tea into the cups. “No.” Job done, the Teapot vanished. Warily, she watched him as he picked his own tea cup up... and poured it down his neck. The flames flared slightly.

“ _Ah, refreshing._ ” He said calmly, placing the tea cup back down on the table. “ _A child is not taught to walk, it already knows how – it is simply unaware of it._ ” Vriska ignored her tea in favour of crossing her arms across her chest skeptically. “You're saying I already know how to ask the right question.” She said blankly, eyeing the strange three green-clad figures who were the only pieces of the strange flame-head-man's that were not remaining in their starting position. She glanced up at him, glaring slightly. Okay, fine. So she already knew but just 'wasn't aware'. She glared harder at him, as if willing him to answer her. _Noosphere_. She flinched back immediately. She didn't hear a voice or anything, it simply popped into her head, just... suddenly there. Flame-head's fire flared again, and he chuckled softly. “ _You succeeded faster than Miss Lalonde did._ ”

“What... what the fuck was that?!” She shouted, eyes wide with anxiety and, although she'd never admit it, fear. He ignored her. “ _We, are in the Noosphere._ ” Her face showed no sign of recognition, and the flames puttered slightly with a sigh. “ _The Noosphere is the manifestation of humanity's unconscious psychic link, the collective gestalt of all minds unknowingly united together._ ” Vriska glanced around her, staring at the wasteland. “...” He chuckled in amusement.

“ _It contains humanity's greatest peaks and most terrible depths. It has nightmares barely constrained by imagination, and paradises beyond your dreams._ ” Vriska studied him carefully, rising up from her chair to give him a skeptical look. “Which one are you?” She accused, raising her sword slightly. He only seemed amused at this, chuckling lightly once more. “ _Which one am I?_ ” He parroted, almost quizzically were it not for the smug flaring of the fires.

“ _What_ are you? Are you some weird fucking thing that haunts humanity's psyche?”

“ _Heavens no. I am by no means a native of the Noosphere, any more than you are. In fact, I am the same as you really. An interloper, an intruder. It's a very fascinating place here you know, if you don't mind the local atmosphere._ ” She got the impression he was smiling at her, and the walls began to flake away, completely revealing the dusty plains. “ _Information and thought flow freely, unbidden and unheeded. For those who know how to ask the right questions, the entirety of human knowledge can be laid bare for their perusal._ ” He held out his hands, shimmering and appearing behind her, causing her to whirl about defensively.

 

“ _All it takes... oh dear. Finished already?_ ” Vriska could feel hands slightly slapping her cheeks, and she reflexively glanced down at the board. Kanaya, Eridan and Feferi were standing around her slumped form, attempting to rouse her, speaking in what appeared to be frantic tones to each other. “ _I'm afraid it seems that's all the time we had, Miss Serket. Do stop by again._ ”

 

* * *

 

_The Comet - This anomaly is highly similar to the equally deadly 'Tesla', and can be described as to the Burner, what the Tesla is to the Electro. The Comet is a large fiery mass that follows a predetermined route due to unknown reasons - anything caught within it's surprisingly well contained but severely dangerous body of fire will simply be incinerated until there aren't even ashes left behind. The Comet is often easy to avoid by simply observing it, or, where necessary, simply outrunning it._

 

* * *

In what was seeming to be an increasingly common occurrence, the doors of Yanov swung open dramatically. This time, barely anyone paid it any mind, except for a few glances from the main guards. Heir grinned, bucktooth and cheer, as he made his way to his usual table. Tavros followed him with only the slightest hesitation, finding a small smile on his face despite the usual atmosphere of the Zone. The blue-clad stalker's boundless cheer was nothing if not infectious. There was a few interested glances now, and before long, everyone was blatantly attempting not to stare but failing horribly. As Heir went to grab some food and drinks, both Cancer and Leo made their way over.

 

“So what the fuck did you and the bucktooth wonder get up to?” He said lightly, placing his bottle of vodka on the table gently, pointedly ignoring the way Nepeta was basically attached to his arm. Tavros raised a dark eyebrow at that but said nothing of it, opting only to frown. “We just went, to Jupiter, to look for, some uh, documents.” He brightened up at that, reaching into his jacket for the assorted folders. “Speaking of which, these might be of uh, interest, to you.” Karkat raised an eyebrow of his own, before rolling his eyes and flipping the first folder up. Nepeta peered over his shoulder, not-so-subtly leaning on him. Tavros watched him mumble under his breath as his eyes scanned the document, slowly widening as he absorbed the implications, before practically tearing the second folder open. “Oh hey Cancer! You must be... Leo, right? I'm Heir!” John held his hand out enthusiastically to Nepeta after he set down two loaves of bread and some sausage, as well as two cups of coffee on a makeshift tray made out of a sheet of metal. Nepeta accepted his outstretched hand, shaking it just as cheerfully and vigorously. “It's a purrrleasure to meet you, Heir!”

“Oh my fuck Nitram, this is probably the most important thing that anyone's fucking done for ages now!” Karkat declared, simply amazed as he smacked the folders back onto the table. “GEMINI!” He shouted, causing the rest of the bar to fall silent for a few short moments. The silence was shattered by the angry reply, “ _WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT KK?_ ” The other stalkers returned to their business. “GET YOUR BONY FUCKING ASS OUT HERE COCKMUNCH, YOU NEED TO SEE THIS SHIT.”

“ _FUCK OFF._ ”

“DON'T MAKE ME DRAG YOU UP HERE BY YOUR FUCKING PUBIC HAIRS!” There was another silence, this time broken by the angry appearance of Gemini, ruffling his bed-head hair and levelling Karkat with a tired glare. “What the fuck ith tho bloody important you had to dithturb my thleep?” Karkat pointed at the assorted documents on the table. Blearily adjusting his heterochromatic goggles, he scanned the first document and then the second. “... Holy shit. I'm... I'm going to grab Eq. Thith ith going to blow hith puny fucking mind.” The technician disappeared back to his quarters, before returning with an equally haggard looking Equius. “Is... is that a hickey?” Tavros muttered under his breath, pointedly avoiding the bruise forming on Equius's neck. John blushed slightly at the implications, before becoming very interested in his meal.

“Good heavens. This is quite the find... stalkers have been trying to find a way into Pripyat for weeks now. To think such a path existed just under our noses...”

Swallowing the last of his bread, John grinned at Tavros apologetically. “I'll be back in a moment, I just have to inform Rose.” Tavros smiled lightly and nodded, watching him leave through the doors.

“To be purrrfectly honest, I think someone's in loooove.” Nepeta said, sidling up to him with a cheeky grin on her face. “Wha-? N-no! That is uh, not a thing, that is happening, at all.” Karkat snorted into his cup of coffee. “Nitram, you were most definitely just eyefucking his ass, don't fucking deny it. Even Terezi could see that.” Tavros shrunk back slightly, a furious blush taking over his face, as both Equius and Sollux began bickering over the technical details of the documents. “Although that moron had the right idea. I should probably send out a Summons to the rest of Zodiac.”

 

* * *

 

“Yo, what happened? I don't think I've ever seen you snap out of your weird hoodoo voodoo magical woodoo like that.” Despite his nonchalant tone and expression, Rose could see the barest hint of worry in his body language. For Dave, that was the equivalent of gross sobbing with fear. She smiled calmly at him, brushing her stalker suit off, and stowing her dimly glowing Compass away. “I'm fine. I was... ejected.” She pursed her lips. “To be honest, I was unaware that was a thing that could happen.” Dave rolled his eyes behind his shades, but nevertheless showed visible signs of relief. “Where has Jade gotten herself to?” She inquired lightly, scanning around.

“Harley? She was getting all restless and shit, so she went out to find something to shoot once or a few hundred times.” Dave pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose slightly with a smirk. “Don't get your panties in a twist, Harley's a big girl, she can take care of herself... and anything else she runs into.” The last part was muttered under his breath, as he poked the camp fire with a stick.

“So, aside from being getting yourself thrown out for rowdy behaviour because seriously Rose, Mom taught you better than that, she'd be rolling over in her grave if she wasn't somehow made of steel and invulnerable to just about everything life's thrown at her despite constantly holding a martini glass... what happened in Wonderland?” Rose sighed, rising up from her seat.

“I learned very little from my foray into the Noosphere, I'm afraid. Item 62 is a weapon called the Gauss Rifle, and it's no longer a prototype.” She said straightening, her back with a crick. The downside of going into meditative trances is that they weren't very good for your posture. “Naturally, this means there is a marked increase in interested parties who are no doubt searching for it as best they can and attempting to prevent anyone else from doing the same.”

“You mean the Mercs and their mysterious shadowy employer who probably clenches down on cigars with a glass of aged brandy? What, is he sitting in some high backed chair overlooking a city from his penthouse, swirling the brandy around, thinking 'I would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for those damned kids and their giant mutated dog!'?” Rose rolled her eyes slightly.

 

“Yes. The Mercs.” She said blandly, sighing. “Ultimately, however, Item 62 is not the true goal. It is _a_ goal, but not _the_ goal.”  
“Wait, so the weapon that threatens to change the face of war is not the ultimate goal of all this hooplah? What is? Is it a bottomless bottle of AJ? Because I would gladly wage World War Three by myself with a feather sword if it meant I had a chance at a bottomless bottle of AJ, that would be delirious biznasty.” Rose shook her head, staring at the fire with an undecipherable expression. Dave fell silent, expression serious. “I don't know.” She said simply. “I don't know what the great goal is, what we're even fighting for. The only thing I know for sure is that someone out there wants it very much, and is willing to kill just about everyone who gets in their way.” Dave nodded silently.

“So... we only want whatever it was, because somebody else wants it?” He said in a deadpan voice. Rose chuckled lightly, smiling at her brother. “Well, I suppose if you put it like that...”

The rustling of the bushes caught their attention, and hands immediately reached for firearms but relaxed just as immediately when they realised who it was. Jade 'Witch' Harley grinned at them, her mane of black hair trailing down the back of her bulky exoskeleton armour, a machine gun slung across her back, but her happy go-lucky demeanour belied her love for all things shooty.

“Rose, you're awake!” She said grinning widely, embracing the other woman in a crushing hug.

“And... you're... suffocating... me...” She wheezed slightly, trying to ignore the feeling of the servomotors digging into her side. “Oh deal with it! I always get so worried whenever you go off like that.” She huffed, but relented after a few more seconds. “Any word from John yet?” She said brightly, sitting down on a nearby log. “Not yet. He should be radioing us soon however, unless something severe happened at Jupiter.”

Their worries were proven baseless when John's voice echoed from the radio. “ _Hello? Rose? Dave?_ ” Rose switched it's volume up.

“Any results John?” She could hear him grinning.

“ _Absolutely super results Rose. Taurus and I found out some interesting things. For starters, did you know the Military was staging some form of operation earlier? We found one of their crashed helicopters. The Co-pilot survived at least._ ” Rose nodded slightly, filing the information away for later. “ _As for Item 62, we've located it._ ” Rose felt her heart swell.

“Excellent work. Have you retrieved it?” John chuckled slightly, a tinge of nervousness.

“ _Well, that's the hard part. I'm sure you're already aware that Jupiter Factory is where they assembled it, but it had an Underpass leading straight to Pripyat._ ” Her face twisted into a frown. Dave muttered 'Oh no they didn't' under his breath. “It's in Pripyat, isn't it.” John chuckled again.

“ _Exactly._ ” She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Do they mention were?”

“ _'Fraid not Rose. Details are slim. Everything was sent through the Underpass, and then the Underpass was sealed and then filled with toxic gas just for good measure. They reaaaally didn't want anyone finding this stuff._ ”

 

Rose let out one more sigh, resisting the urge to bang her had against something hard. That would be both counter-productive and uncharateristically undignified. Rose was nothing if not dignified.

“I suppose we don't really have a choice. We're going to have to go to Pripyat again. You're in Yanov, correct?” John made a noise of agreement. “Fabulous. We'll head over there, stock up on supplies, and go for a foray.”

 

* * *

 

_The Burner - A highly dangerous and relatively common anomaly, often found in clusters. The Burner anomaly, once trigged, unleashes a large pillar of flame, incinerating hapless victims. It can be identified by either triggering it safely with a small object such as a bolt, or for the effect of it's high ambient temperature, which creates a heat haze effect. It's incredibly high ambient temperature, and proclivity to forming in clustered groups, means that the Burner anomaly does not have to be triggered to be dangerous - prolonged exposure can cause organisms to simply be cooked alive by it's heat._

 

* * *

 

Vriska groaned lightly, eyes opening only slightly, wincing under the bright light. “Wha...” She muttered groggily, barely making out the Kanaya's worried expression.

“Oh thank heavens your alright. You had us worried there Vriska. You were exhibiting abnormal brainwave activity and we had thought... perhaps it was too late.” The green-clad Ecologist Medic sat back in her chair, a relieved smile decorating her face. “What... what the fuck happened?” Vriska muttered, sitting up with a groan. “The insulator.” She said with a start, eyes widening. Eridan nodded slightly from his position by the door, and jerked his thumb in the general direction of the main lab. “In containment. I managed to rush in and contain it.” Eridan frowned at her, eyes scrutinising her not unkindly. “Y'sure your alright, Vvris? You wwere out for a feww hours.”

“I'm fine! Just... a bit of a headache s'all...” She snapped lightly, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot. She grimaced slightly at the pounding pain in her head, and glanced up at Kanaya. “What'd I miss?” She muttered, adjusting her suit slightly.

“Precious little.” The matronly stalker admitted, rising to a stand. “Our new protection detail arrived, and have hammered out the details of the contract with Hermann – they're significantly friendlier and more useful than Black's group.” Her face marred in distaste at the thought of the mercenaries that had abandoned them, but she shook her head. “I suppose the most interesting thing that has occurred is that Cancer has issued a summons to all of Zodiac. We were waiting for you to awaken before we left though.” She watched as Vriska stood on her feet, somewhat unsteady, before taking a deep breath and righting herself. “He'll be waiting for us in Yanov. I believe we are currently the only members who aren't already there.” Vriska gave her a questioning stare.

“Then what the hell are we waiting for? If Karkat sent out a summons, it's going to be something biiiiiiiig!”

 

The trek to Yanov station from the Scientist's Bunker was as uneventful as it was short, which was to be expected considering the two locations were only a fairly vigorous stone throw away from each other. Whilst Vriska was tempted to open the doors with a dramatic flourish, Kanaya had insisted they enter with a modicum of humbleness. “There you fucking are. Nice to see your still alive, Serket.” Karkat barked out from his table. “Everyone's waiting downstairs.” He jerked his head towards the basement stairway, and began moving down there himself. Both Eridan and Feferi wasted little time in following him, and Gamzee shambled after them shortly after waving to some of his friends in Freedom. “What're you waiting for, Fussyfangs?” Kanaya glanced at the blue-clad mercenary, sighing slightly.

“Just... making sure everyone was fine.” Scorpio only snorted at that.

“Jeez, you were gone for what, half a day? They're big boys and girls, Fussyfangs, even if they are a bunch of losers.” Having said that, Vriska casually strode down the stairs, flashing the bemused Kanaya a smirk. Kanaya smiled gently and followed her down.

The dank basement was large enough that the congregation of twelve stalkers didn't seem crowded. Sagittarius and Gemini were standing relatively close, making snide comments to each other at random intervals. Leo had originally been standing next to the duo, happily making conversation with the Duty technician but had made a beeline towards Cancer who was standing to the side with Aries, Libra and Capricorn. Both Pisces and Aquarius had joined Taurus near the outer edges of the gathering, and both males were essentially just listening as the female scientist babbled on about anomaly formations. “Right, every one of you stupid fucking morons has managed to get here. That's fucking super. Or it would be, if not for the fact that the only people who weren't already here were just you five.” Cancer jerked his head at the five newcomers. Libra sniffed the air, and grinned ferally at Scorpio, an act that was reciprocated, causing Virgo to give them both reprimanding glares. “HURRY UP, KRAB-APPLE, WHY'D YOU BRING US HERE?” Cancer gave her a vicious glare, and she responded with a cackling grin. “Fuck you for that Terezi, I'm getting to it, hold your fucking horses. I was going to ask Tholluckth or Zahhak to explain,” Gemini barked out a generic insult at that which Cancer ignored, “But then they'd just sit there comparing dicks all day. Seeing as it was your find, Nitram, you can do the honours.” Vriska raised an eyebrow at that, and the dusky-skinned stalker ran a hand through his mohawk. “Well, uh recently, I went to Jupiter, with Heir, and we uh, found some, documents, revealing, a secret uh, underpass, to Pripyat.” Everyone that did not already know this information immediately snapped to attention. “Wwait, are you for serious, Tavv? Pripyat?” The reclusive stalker nodded.

 

“Daaaaaaaamn, Tavros, that's... that's actually pretty cool.” Vriska admitted, half-reluctant, a large grin slowly blossoming on her face.

“There is, however, a catch, and it's a bit of a fucking doozy here.” Karkat admitted, crossing his arms slightly. Sollux chose this time to begin speaking. “Bathically, the documenth thtate that the people in charge of Jupiter didn't want anyone to find the Underpath. Probably becauthe they are a bunch of giant jerkathe's. Tho, they dethided to theal the Underpath, and then, jutht becauthe they hate everything, they filled it with poithonouth gath.” Equius coughed into his hand.

“What Gemini is attempting to say, is that any mission to go through the Underpass will require closed-cycle respiration suits, and will certainly be an undertaking of high risk.” The scrawny technician responded to this with a punch that Zahhak simply ignored.

“To put it in layman's fucking terms, it's really fucking dangerous and you need a fancy suit.” Karkat said dryly. “But I don't know about you jackasses, but if there's an opportunity to reach Pripyat, I'm fucking taking it. Unfortunately, as wonderful as I am, I probably can't do this alone.” Terezi let out a snicker. “SAY NO MORE KARKLES. THERE'S NO WAY I'M PASSING UP AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THIS.”

“Shit yeah, Karbro. Gonna be a bitchtits miracle.” Gamzee gave the smaller stalker a lazy grin, slinging an arm across his shoulders. “Both Gemini and I will naturally take part in this mission. There is nobody else with the technical expertise to open the Underpass.” Equius said, crossing his arms. “Bethideth, there'th no fucking way we're pathing thith up either.” Sollux grinned, all toothy and aggressively enthusiastic.

“Are you seriously asking if I'm going to let you loooooooosers go off and have all the fun without me? Fuck no!” Vriska grinned devilishly, slamming her fist into her palm. Kanaya let out a tired sigh. “... I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you were all of gallivanting into god know's what.” She admitted with a light shrug. Aradia gave the slightest of shrugs, and a tiny maybe-smile.

“I don't know what the big fuss with Pripyat is about. It's actually kind of boring.” She said nonchalantly, “But I suppose it might help if you had a guide. My memory is a tad fuzzy, but I do remember enough about the basic layout and Monolith outposts.” Eridan glanced at Feferi, waiting for her decision.

“Well... I _am_ attached to the Science Team but... oh, I'm sure I could get permission! First Scientist to set foot in Pripyat since the Zone's birth! Think of all the research!” The Ecologist stalker was practically gushing at the idea of all the research she could do and the information she could gather. Eridan just let out a slight chuckle and crossed his arms without a word. Nobody bothered asking if he was going to follow Feferi – it was a foregone conclusion. “Then I guess that's all settled isn't it?” Karkat let his gaze roam across the other eleven. “... You know, I never thought we'd actually reunite after the Great Push. I hoped we would, but fuck if you lot aren't the most disagreeable bunch of toddlers in stalker suits I've ever fucking met.” He grinned despite the insults, a rare, genuine expression of pure joy at the idea of a reformed Zodiac Team. He had made it no secret that his sole wish was for the team to remain united, but diverging interests and without the common goal Clear Sky had provided them, they simply broke apart to his dismay.

 

“Keep in mind, however, this isn't a school excursion. The risk of death is high, and even if we do fucking survive, there's no telling what we'll find in Pripyat.” Aradia gave him her would-be-smile.

“Anomalies. Mutants. Monolith Soldiers.” He rolled his eyes, and ignored her interjection

“So wrap up any loose ends, and finish any business you have left. When we leave, we may not return.” He paused. “If any of you don't already have a Closed-cycle suit, you're going to need one.”

There were a few murmurs of assent and general agreement. Due to their respective factional allegiances and occupations, nearly everyone possessed a closed-cycle suit with the exception of both Taurus (who never had a need for one) and Libra (who preferred a suit built more for combat). Karkat checked his PDA, frowning slightly. “I still have to check in with Grouse back in Zaton about our bloodsucker mimic.” Terezi latched onto his arm.

“SOUNDS LIKE AN EXCITING CASE... OF JUSTICE!” Karkat made a half-hearted attempt to shake her off, before reluctantly allowing her to hang on, still grinning madly. “Oh! That reminds me, Trapper asked me to help Gonta hunt the wounded Chimera.” Nepeta said exuberantly. Equius patted her on the shoulder and gave her a look that said 'Be safe.' “The thweaty douchebag and I will thtudy the documenth.” Having said that, Sollux grabbed Zahhak by the bicep, and began dragging him towards his broadcasting room and general quarters. “... Study. Right.” Karkat said blankly.

 

“Wwell, Fef and I still havve to talk to Hermann. He's probably got more research for us lined up already.” This left Gamzee, Aradia, Tavros, Vriska and Kanaya who all glanced at each other in turn.

“... I have to oversee Yanov, and make sure Hawaiian is capable of keeping the peace in my absence.” Kanaya muttered quietly, leaving silently. Vriska glanced at the remaining three other stalkers, before grinning ferally. “Saaaaaaaay... how do you three feel about shooting up some other merc's?”

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere of the Cordon was just as he remembered. Nervous novice stalkers milled about, the more experienced veterans sat around bemusedly reminiscing their first stumbling steps. The Military had 'graciously' allowed him a full five minutes to flee before they opened fire, and even then, only because he offered them signed autographs. He wasn't aware his music was that popular with residents of the Zone, but then again, he had channelled his experiences within this horrendous place into his craft. It was only natural it resonated with them. Down within his bunker, Sidorovich looked up from his books and folders, a cigarette lolling about in his mouth, lit, but not really smoked. “When I heard you were returning, I thought of it as hearsay. You had a successful life outside, why bother returning?” The portly trader, and purveyor of just about everything you could conceive of, shrugged at that though. “Eh, is no business of mine to ask why, and frankly, I don't care. Paying customers are paying customers, and if you aren't here to buy, then why are you here?” He gave the formerly retired stalker a crooked smile. It was not returned. A duffel bag was handed over for inspection, and to Sidorovich's credit, he showed no signs of shock or surprise at the amount of money contained within. “Two things. Equipment and information.” A facsimile of a friendly smile stretched across the trader's face. “For this kind of money, I'm certainly curious as to what exactly you are after, Prince.”

 

Dirk 'Prince' Strider, commonly known as 'DJ D-Stri', folded his arms across his chest. “I need an advanced set of equipment, and every last little bit of information, rumour or not, about 'The Felt.'” Sidorovich's smile widened into an expression worthy of a Shark in a feeding frenzy. “Let me see what I have out back, Prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirk is introduced! Zodiac reunites! The Pripyat Journey will soon begin! Yes, I've been waiting to finally do this section for a while.


	8. A Date with Bloody Palms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat cries, Tavros is unsure, Vriska is vindicated (not that she cares), and Dirk digs a little deeper towards the answer to all this questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. I was wrestling with writer's block and problems with my degree transfer at Uni. However, please enjoy 'A Date with Bloody Palms' (I'm running out of fancy-sounding titles...)!

The bar at Skadovsk, like many bars in the Zone, was a constant. Boring, plain, and kind of dull. But in the everchanging Zone, such things were more then mere haven's from danger. It was reliable, a touchstone, a place where you could go to sleep without wondering whether you'd wake up surrounded by mutants, trees, or just anomalies. “Beard, you wrinkled bilebag. Where the fuck is Grouse? He told me he'd tracked down our little bloodsucker.” The balding stalker looked up from arranging his bottles, blinking at the trio before him. “Grouse? Said he was heading to the shipping cranes, Cancer.” He eyed the other two stalkers with the short-haired ginger, gaze lingering on Libra a little warily. Bandits were tolerated within Skadovsk, but Libra's reputation preceded her. He didn't like the idea of a fight within the bar. Not with so many people that could be caught in the crossfire.

Karkat grumbled something about 'impatient dicknipples' before giving Beard his customary ten dollar tip for the information. Nepeta shuffled back over to the duo from where she was talking to a trio of other stalkers. “Gonta said we have to wait fur the chimera to sleep, so I'm furee until then.” She latched onto Karkat's arm, clearly happy at the prospect of being able to spend more time with the other stalker, drawing a cackle from Terezi at the male's expression of mild resignation. “Check your weapons, and be on your guard. Grouse didn't mention what he thought the killer was or is, but whatever the fuck it is, it's mimicking bloodsuckers. It could be a mutated monkey on roller skates or it could be some fucked up asshole who hates everything because his mother never loved him.” The rusted metal door swung open easily despite it's appearance, and Karkat took a deep gulp of the Zone air. It was almost bitter. “The Cranes are just over there.” He jerked his head in the general direction, checked his pistol and began moving over, the other two following him lightly.

 

The Dock Cranes were a desolate location, the office having long been abandoned, and a small section of shipping crates had been turned into an improvised camp location. The towering cranes had not been used or so much as moved for years now, the water having long since drained away to form a marshy swamp. Terezi wrinkled her nose in distaste at the smell of rusting metal, and the faint, _very faint_ coppery scent of blood. The trio of leather-clad stalkers in ski masks approaching them probably did little to improve the general olfactory experience. Karkat growled low in his throat, reaching for his pistol with one hand but not actively drawing it. If he could avoid a violent confrontation, he'd like to.

“What the fuck do you sorry shrivelled sacks of unwanted shits want?” Nobody liked being called 'sorry shrivelled sacks of unwanted shits', so it was with no surprise that the group of bandits reacted aggressively. Their leader gave Karkat a shove, leering at him as he stumbled back slightly. “Big words from a tiny _bitch_. Fuck off back to your hole, there's no business for you here.” Karkat sneered right back, lip curled as he prepared to retort, but one of the bandit's expression twisted into horrified recognition, and jerked his leader back. “IT'S THE CRAZY STALKER WHO GOT HAMMER!” He was pointing frantically at Terezi, who only made a disinterested 'HM' noise. Karkat felt like palming his face very heavily when the group of bandits drew their weapons with faces torn between fear and fury. Nepeta dived for cover behind the one crane leg whilst Karkat forcefully dragged Terezi to safety behind the other, hissing as bullets screeched against the metal. “OH! HAMMER! I REMEMBER! THAT WAS A FEW WEEKS AGO! HE WAS THE GUY TRYING TO TAKE CONTROL OF GARBAGE!”

“Terezi, I understand that you are blind BUT EVEN YOU CAN SEE THAT NOW IS NOT THE FUCKING TIME!”

“AW COME ON KARKLES, LET ME DISPENSE ORD3R AND JUST1C3!”

Nepeta let her claws slide out into position, taking a single breath to steady herself before leaping out of cover, every inch the graceful predator. The first bandit was dead before he even registered the sharp blades slicing through his neck, decapitating him in a shower of blood. A magazine hit the ground, and she watched another bandit frantically try to reload in what felt like slow motion. A swipe of her claws, and the hand holding the gun began to fall from his arm, sliced pieces falling to the ground. The last one raised his gun shakily, aiming it with trembling hands at the calmly surveying Nepeta. “Y-y-you fucking bitch!” He shouted, eyes wide with surprise. “I'll fucking kill you!” Nepeta blinked at him, expression one of cat-like confusion.

“No you won't.” She said matter of factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why the fuck not?!” She cocked her head to the side now, brushing her claws against her coat almost idly. “Because you're already dead.” Before he could open his mouth to retort, or pull the trigger to prove her wrong, a loud bang resounded through the now quite empty docks, the bandit crumpling the floor with a spray of blood and brain matter. “GEEZ, YOU THINK HE'D REMEMBER THERE WERE OTHER PEOPLE.” She holstered her veritable hand cannon, sniffing the air slightly. “YOU SMELL PALE KARKLES. ARE YOU OKAY?”

He gave her a half-hearted glare, doing his best not to retch. “Fine. Peachy. Super fucking duper. Oh man, just look how wonderful I am, surrounded by blood and guts! Let's go walk into the shack where the Bloodsucker-That-Isn't is waiting for us! ISN'T THIS FUCKING EXCITING KIDS?!” Terezi frowned at him, blind eyes squinting behind red visors. “NO NEED TO SHOUT, JEEZ. IF YOU HATE BLOOD SO MUCH WHY DID YOU TAKE THIS MISSION?” Nearly everyone who knew Cancer knew he had an aversion to blood. None of them really knew why per se, as the ginger stalker would rather drown in a pool of his own blood and bile then open up about it. “For the last fucking time, money doesn't grow in trees and sometimes people have to do things they hate in order to, you know, _survive_. Jegus fuck, it's like the motto of the Zone! 'Come see the fabulous sights! Meet interesting people! Be forced to kill them or die yourself! Fight your way through horrible anomalies! Come face to face with Death! Bring your friends and family today!'” He griped sarcastically, tearing his eyes up from the ground and over to the wooden shack. “Let's just get this over with, so I can collect my pay and ignore the rest of you taintchafers like normal.”

 

* * *

 

Vriska cackled lightly, cerulean eye gazing through the lens of a pair of binoculars, watching as the mercenaries patrolled around the Waste Treatment Facility, alert and attentive. Like ducks waiting to be shot. Flies, too stupid to realise they were already caught in the Spider's web. “Tavros, you can still do that weird Heart planeteer thing right?” The mohawked male puffed up slightly, indignant at having his odd ability referred to as the 'weird Heart planeteer thing' but nonetheless muttered an assent. “Greeeeeeeeaaaaaaaat. Perfect, actually.”

“What... are we uh, doing, exactly?” The taller female rolled her eye, snorting lightly.

“Jeez, Nitram, weren't you paying attention? We're going to kill some mercenaries!” She said, grinning madly. The Zodiac Stalker rolled his eyes slightly at that, fidgeting with his hunting rifle. “Well, yeah, I uh, got that, but... why?” The cerulean-coloured mercenary let out a long-suffering sigh, putting her binoculars down as she turned to address Taurus. “Tavros, they're mercenaries.” She said blankly as if that explained everything. The other stalker just blinked back at her. “... They probably eat babies or something? They're _mercenaries_ Nitram, we don't need a reason to kill them.”

“You're a mercenary.” He said softly, gazing at her with honey brown eyes. She froze slightly before shrugging it off with a grin and a laugh. Tavros found himself musing on just how... _Vriska_ that reaction was. “Yeah, well, the difference is I'm _awesome_!” Tavros decided to say nothing to that, simply letting her continue 'directing' them. “Right, Makara, six guys. Can you see them?” The lanky Freedomer shifted into a more comfortable position before peering through the scope of his sniper rifle. “Got my motherfuckin' sights all up and on them, Spidersis.” The Clown stalker seemed as relaxed at ever, but his fingers were twitching lightly and his lips kept quirking-unquirking into a smirk.

 

“Okaaaaaaaay losers, this is how we're going to do things. You,” At this she looked pointedly at Tavros, “and Clownface are long-range support, and Megido and I will take it to close quarters. First, you do your...” She began gesticulating wildly, as if trying to mould the air with her hands. “ _Thing_ , and then Capricorn takes out the sentries. Then we'll take care of everyone whose inside and Makara can shoot anyone who tries to flee. All clear?” There was a murmured chorus of assent in various phrasings. She looked expectantly at Tavros, who placed a pair of fingers at his temple and took a deep breath.

Stretching his mind, as he liked to refer to it, was weird. It was like he had a sixth sense, and when he 'flexed' it, it brushed up against other people's minds. He couldn't control other people (he had only tried once on a group of bandits) or even zombies, but animal's responded easily to his influence. He let it settle like a cloud, taking stock of everything and everyone he could feel. He could feel the not too unfamiliar minds of his fellow stalkers next to him, although Vriska's felt... _different_ for some reason. There was, unsurprisingly, a large nexus of human minds in the waste treatment plant but beneath their humming interference, he could make out the placid thoughts of a nest of hamsters. He reached out in a wave of intent, commanding all to rise up from the nest.

“Agh, what the fuck Nitram?” He blinked, snapped out of his reverie as Vriska glared at him, feeling the odd pulse of her mind against his own, angry and irritated. Tavros, for his part, just kind of stared at her dumbfounded. Most people reported nothing unless he was actively trying to control them, and at that point, it was just like a pressure in their head that they could mostly ignore. “You can feel it.” He said dumbly.

“Well, _yeah_ , I can feel it Nitram! Jeez, it was like a fucking foghorn or something!” Aradia blinked slowly, a gentle but empty smile on her face. “... I didn't feel anything.” Gamzee nodded lazily in agreement with her. “What? How can you not _feel_ that?” At their blank looks, she just sighed and palmed her face. “Maybe, we should uh, talk about this, later?”

 

* * *

 

_Vortex - The Whirligig's bigger, nastier brother, the Vortex anomaly shares many of the same qualities as the Whirligig with one vital difference - it does everything on a larger scale. It's significantly harder to escape the pull of the Vortex due to it's much stronger gravitational field, and the crushing implosion is more often fatal. It is, however, still possible to escape, with strong enough armour, as the Vortex's gravity restores itself to normal for a tiny window after an implosion. Those who wear the Exoskeleton armour, however, find themselves too restrained to be able to flee in time, and often perish._

 

* * *

 

She hadn't changed in the slightest. Tall and slender, she seemed almost wavy as she pottered about the lab, martini glass firmly in hand as she giggled her little tinkling giggle. A little part of Dirk had to remind himself that Roxy 'Rogue' Lalonde could and had killed people with her bare hands. “Roxy.” He greeted softly, crossing his arms as she laughed again, musical and carefree.

“Awww, Dirky baby, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Mom?” She swayed, test tube in one hand, and for a moment, Dirk was reminded of a willow tree in the wind. A Whomping Willow, naturally. “It's weird.” He grunted. It was mostly because she technically wasn't his mother, only his stepmother. And even that was somewhat debatable after she had divorced his father. She was, however, the mother of his two half-siblings, although the age difference between both Dirk and Roxy was surprisingly short. Only a distance of about ten years. “Awwww, sweetie, you know you'll always be my little baby in spirit.” She giggled at his blank expression, and poured the test tube into a flask, ignoring the smoke beginning to pour out of it. Part of Dirk wondered whether Roxy was actually consciously doing research, or if she was just doing things she considered science-y. It was a mystery to everyone but the woman herself. That was Roxy in a nutshell. Impenetrably vague and offhandedly guarded, she shielded herself from just about anyone who tried to understand what went on in her head and she made it look unintentional. It may have _been_ unintentional.

 

“Sooooo,” She drawled sweetly, sipping her martini lightly, “What brings the little Prince to Momma?” He made another blank face.

“Have you heard of 'The Felt'?” There was a cold flash in the room, and Dirk restrained the flinch. For the briefest of moments, the airy demeanour of not-quite-drunk 'Mom' Lalonde had given way to the razor ice of 'Rogue'. “Dirk, sweetie,” She began slowly, ignoring the shards of what used to be her martini glass in her hand, idly brushing the bloodstained fragments out. “What are you getting yourself into?” She said cheerfully, turning to face him completely and bearing down with the full force of her cheery facade. Dirk flinched.

“...” He chose not answer straight away, trying to ignore her measuring stare as she grabbed another glass, pouring herself another martini, carefully ensuring no blood got mixed into the drink. “Honey, you know you can tell your Mother all about it.” _You had better fucking spill right now or I swear to God..._ was the unspoken message. Dirk gulped, attempting to relax slightly. “It's... it's about Li'l Hal.” She raised a delicate eyebrow at that, sipping her beverage in a manner that could only be described as thoughtfully confused. “We were doing a routine internet sweep, Hal gets irritated if he isn't allowed to at least access the internet every now and then and,” A hand reached up to scratch at the back of his head. “Well... apparently, he ran into a 'knock-off' of himself.” He admitted. Roxy treated him to one of her rare eyebrow raise x2 combo's.

 

“But the only people who know about Hal are,” She began, earnestly confused and surprised.

“You, Jake and Jane, yeah I know.” Dirk fidgeted with his shades lightly. Roxy drained her glass and poured another. And another. And another. “Roxy, are you going to help me or are you just going to pass out?” He snapped, somewhat irritated with her reaction. He knew it would take more then that to even get Roxy somewhat drunk, but it was still annoying. “... How is this related to the Felt?” She said quietly, gazing down at her empty glass. Dirk paused, sighing lightly.

“To be perfectly honest, Roxy, I'm not sure.” He admitted grudgingly. “Men in green suits began appearing everywhere I went, so I did a little research whilst I tried to get away from them. 'The Felt' kept popping up whenever I mentioned green suits, and then someone mentioned they were based in the Zone and... yeah.” He trailed off, watching her still form. “... D'ya know anything about them or...?” She did, that much was obvious. She at the very least had an idea of who or what they were, and what they were capable of. She let out a long and tired sigh, slumping into a nearby chair. “Dirk... Dirky, Dirk... what on earth have you gotten yourself into?” She whispered sadly, staring at him with oddly hollow eyes. She let out another sigh. “The Felt...” She started, glancing at her glass before deciding that she clearly wasn't drunk enough for this. Another martini later, she began in earnest.

 

“The Felt are a crime organisation. A _big_ one. Fingers in a lot of pies, and not all of which are strictly legal pies.” She swirled the cocktail around sadly, gazing into it as if it held all the answers. “Their motto, their little 'slogan'... 'Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds'.” Dirk raised an eyebrow at that, feeling his brain turn it's cogs. “That was Oppenheimer wasn't it?” He said quietly, watching Roxy nod slowly, still staring into her martini. “Chapter 11, Verse 32 of the Bhagavad Gita originally.” She drained her glass again, staring into it with that same pensive sadness. “Oppenheimer quoted it in reaction to the Atomic Bomb.”

Dirk crossed his arms slightly. “I'm not getting the importance Roxy.” She laughed, bitter and hollow this time, giving him a wry smile full of regrets and missed opportunities. “Dirky, Dirky, so clever yet so silly sometimes. 'Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds'. Nuclear fission was the 'It' thing, incredible power at their fingertips – splitting creation itself.” She placed the glass on the table. “Nobody worth their salt cares about boring old nuclear fission any more though. _Noooo_ , everyone wants a piece of the Chernobyl pie.” Dirk's eyes widened behind his shades, realisation setting in. “Getting it now, Dirky? Nobody cares about the Atom bomb, that's old news.” She waved her hand limply at him at that, as if she was dismissing the bomb itself. “People want the power of the Zone.”

 

* * *

 

Karkat wasn't sure what he was expecting when they entered the shack. A stalker of some kind, probably a serial killing nutcase or something, yeah probably. Probably a lot of blood, of which he had steeled himself for. There was not, in fact, a lot of blood. There was _some,_ but it was neatly contained to the area where... Grouse was lying. Dead. Presumably. Yeah, he was probably dead. But all of that wasn't what really shook Karkat. He had already expected most of it. No, what really got him was the person standing over Grouse.

“P-P-PORRIM?!” The Indian stalker gave Karkat a sad smile as she turned to face them, a small rivulet of blood running from the corner of her mouth. “Ah. You found me.” Her tone was anything but surprised, more resigned. “It was only a matter of time, I suppose.” She admitted softly, wiping the trail of blood from her mouth and regarding them with the eyes of someone who had accepted their fate. Their end. “Well then. You must have a lot of questions.” She said calmly, arms and hands in an open position.

 

“Why?” Was all Karkat could voice, Nepeta and Terezi silently watching (or sniffing in Terezi's case). Porrim had been a member of Clear Sky, a friend of the Sufferer, and something of a makeshift mother figure to Karkat. It was clear to both of them that Karkat wouldn't take this well. “Haemoglobin addiction.” The matronly stalker admitted, gazing at Karkat with apologetic eyes. “It was... manageable when I was working in a Hospital. A little bit here, a little bit there, nobody really noticed.” She looked at her hands, almost disappointedly. “I came to the Zone, thinking maybe the press of survival would help take my mind off it, perhaps even overcome it.” She gave him a bitter smile. “I was mistaken. The stress only worsened it.” She said softly. Karkat's hands had began shaking, tears stinging his eyes.

“So you started killing people? Just like that? Started slitting throats and draining their blood? Completely normal reaction there! COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FUCKING NORMAL REACTION!” He shouted, face flushing with rage.

“I had a problem, it was bad, I know!” She snapped back, flaring up slightly. “The first time I... I lost control. I had _to_. And then it just got worse. I had to hide the body, and when people asked questions I...” She trailed off slightly, before flaring back up. “I didn't have a choice! I tried to feed only on the undesirables, people nobody would really miss, but then people started fearing Bloodsuckers and then the Trackers found out! _It just kept getting worse!_ ”

“YOU COULD'VE ASKED US! WE WOULD'VE HELPED YOU, DAMN IT!” Karkat all but screamed, the tears now flowing down his face, the other two remaining deathly silent, only observing quietly. “... I would've helped you...” He trailed off slightly. “We have artifacts, Porrim, you know that! Blood loss isn't a problem with things like the fucking Firefly or Kolobok!” A silence fell upon them for a few moments, the wind not even daring to shift lest it be broken until Porrim let out a soft chuckle.

“I made some mistakes, and then I kept making more to try and cover it up. I'm sorry you got dragged into this, Karkat.” Karkat's eyes widened in a manner that might have been considered comical if it weren't for the abject fear in them as Porrim's hands began to move towards her neck. “What the fuck are you doing? NO! _NO NO FUCKING NO!_ ” He dashed forward, Nepeta darting past him as he did so, but neither of them were fast enough. Scalpel in hand, the former doctor severed her arteries with surgical precision, spraying the room with crimson blood. She slumped towards the ground, landing in Karkat's outstretched arms, the slowly dimming eyes meeting his own red ones. ' _Ah... I wonder what Kankri would say..._ ' She thought softly, watching as Karkat's lips moved frantically but unable to hear what he was saying past a soft buzz in her ears. ' _He'd be so disappointed in me..._ ' The light faded in her eyes completely despite the younger stalker's almost crazed protests, and the warmth began to leave her body.

 

Nepeta stood by awkwardly, silently watching as Karkat curled up over the corpse, screaming and crying, unsure if and how to comfort Cancer.

 

* * *

 

_Kolobok - A chemical based artifact, the Kolobok resembles a particularly spiny sea urchin. Despite it's prickly appearance, the Kolobok is highly prized for it's healing qualities, capable of healing serious wounds in mere minutes. Not as effective as it's more powerful brother, the Firefly, the Kolobok is somewhat more common however, and is more easily recognised. Rumours are currently circulating, however, that the Kolobok interacts with one's genetic code, potentially altering it and having side effects other than it's healing qualities that it's prized for._

 

* * *

 

Tavros stepped over a slowly bleeding corpse, trying not to think about the gnawed bones that made up it's legs, pushing the insistent little voice that said ' _you did this_ ' to the back of his mind. Yes, he did it. But they deserved it. Right...? He shook his head. Moral issues would have to be ignored. There was no point in breaking down after he had already... did this. The Hamsters had retreated back to their nest at his unspoken command, and he tried to ignore the sense of disgust in himself that had built up when Vriska whistled and congratulated him. A few years ago, he would've done anything for her praise. Now... it just made him feel sick.

Gamzee gave him a reassuring grin, and he returned it tentatively, letting the taller male sling an arm around his shoulders. Vriska was currently putting a bullet in any of the unlucky survivors, the sounds of her rifle the only thing that could be heard except for the occasional moan from the mercenaries who were 'lucky' enough to avoid being killed in the bloodbath. The Hamsters had proven significantly more numerous than Tavros had first thought, and when Vriska and Aradia made their move, it was to find the Mercenaries already wounded and weakened by a veritable swarm of tiny chittering rodents, and some were outright dead. Needless to say, the resistance they put up was vastly weaker than what they usually would have managed.

 

“Spider... you fucking... bitch...” One of them wheezed, and Vriska grinned down at him.

“Hooooooook... so good to _see_ you.” She bared her teeth at the prone stalker, who was laying against the concrete wall, clutching a bullet wound in his stomach. “Kgh... you'll... fucking... pay for this...” She pressed the barrel of her rifle to his forehead, letting out a sarcastic 'Hmmmm', before grinning ferally at him. “No. No I don't think I will, actually.” She pulled the trigger, watching as he slumped against the ground, blood dribbling from the new hole in his head. “Alright! That's the last of the losers taken care of. Let's see what these fuckers got!”

Looting was always something that Tavros never really liked about life in the Zone. It seemed disrespectful to just steal from the bodies of the deceased, especially if they were recent. It was, however, a fundamental part of life here. Nothing could be let to go to waste. Food, ammunition, all of it was precious and you never knew what would come in useful. Guns were emptied of their magazines, and if they were in good enough condition, usually kept to be sold or even utilised. Armour was often left behind, too bulky or heavy to carry around to sell. Everything else was generally taken, especially any form of supplies.

Tavros began patting the bodies down, trying to ignore the bite marks and chewed limbs, repeating a small mantra of 'They deserved it' in his head in order to try and prevent himself from having a morality crisis. They were mercenaries. They would likely shoot anyone for a bit of cash, and likely had. Mercenaries were known for being dangerous wildcards and you could never be certain if they would greet you warmly, or with bullets. They deserved it. _But they were people just trying to live in the Zone, too, weren't they?_

 

“Jackpot!” Vriska crowed triumphantly, brandishing a slim laptop. The other three began shuffling over almost immediately to inspect the find. She clicked through their old messages and documents, humming lightly to herself as she inspected what she found. Most of it was encrypted, but there was one thing left open. A message from 'Jackal'.

_Set up a camp near the waste processing station and everyone who is going to be participating in this job will join you. Don't expect Black, because he and his people will be at Jupiter on a different mission. The army has suspended all flights into the Zone, so there won't be any trouble from that side. When stalkers find a way to Pripyat we'll send a guide and wait for the client's people there - they'll show us where the lab is._

_-Jackal._

“Black, huh? That was the lame-o who was in charge of the Research team's defence detail.” She closed the laptop, removing the charger with it, and flashed a winning smile to the other three. “He betrayed them. Looks like he wasn't working alone either.” That made Tavros feel somewhat better. The people they had just brutally slaughtered were in league with people who had tried to harm the Scientists... which included Feferi, Eridan and Kanaya. They had tried to hurt his friends.

He could feel better about forcing them to be eaten alive.

 

Vriska clapped her hands together, grinning at the trio in front of her once more. Gamzee and Aradia returned the expression in their own respective manners, one lazy and dreamily, the other blankly and hollowly. Tavros followed suit with his own nervous smile. “Captor'll _love_ checking this little thing out. Good hustle Team!” With that declaration, she left the Waste Treatment Plant, presumably in the direction of Yanov where one half of Zodiac remained.

Tavros glanced at the other three, who simply shrugged and began following her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering what happened with the Sufferer, it's covered in the Chernobylbound side story 'The Way Home' (which you should all read anyway).


End file.
